


Sands of Time

by Ariana Deralte (ArianaDeralte), ArianaDeralte



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Adventure, Gen, Mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-13
Updated: 2009-12-13
Packaged: 2017-10-04 09:45:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 31,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArianaDeralte/pseuds/Ariana%20Deralte, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArianaDeralte/pseuds/ArianaDeralte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry has always trusted Dumbledore, but does Dumbledore truly deserve that trust? Strange things are happening at Hogwarts well, stranger than normal… and Harry has no one to turn to with his suspicions except Snape!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Taken as is from ff.net.
> 
> Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related characters do not belong to me. They belong to Rowling.
> 
> While the prologue takes place in the Founder's time. All other chapters will take place during Harry's fifth-year.

Prologue

The floor of the chamber was burnished marble, shot through with thin lines of silver. When looked at from above, the silver lines outlined the crest of Hogwarts, though it would have been hard to see through the wizard in dark grey robes who was pacing on top of it. The wizard ran his hands through his dark hair, than turned to address the other occupant of the chamber who was leaning casually against a marble column.

"Salazar," he said. The other wizard looked up from his apparently intense perusal of the floor.

"Yes Godric?" responded the other wizard. Godric took a step forward, looking intently into Salazar's greyish blue eyes.

"Please tell me you didn't do it."

"Do what?" Salazar couldn't have looked more confused if he had been told that Rowena was a man, but Godric had known the wizard for years and wasn't about to be fooled by the act. Not this time.

"Don't play with me," Godric said angrily. "You haven't just been experimenting in the dungeons this time. We all saw it. Even the first-years are wondering what happened."

"It was just a little lightening Godric. Surely you've gotten over that old fear of yours?" Salazar smiled while Godric glared at him. Somehow Slytherin had found out about his old fear of storms. He seemed to enjoy bringing it up as well, though he was polite enough to do so in private.

Godric turned in disgust and strode away from the dark wizard. It was little things like that polite consideration that confused him. Salazar Slytherin was supposed to be ruthless, and according to his enemies he was. But then he would bring Rowena flowers to cheer her up, or waste his afternoon explaining arthimancy to a struggling student. The man seemed to enjoy keeping everyone around him befuddled, and Godric was, by his own admission, his favourite target. Godric shook his head to clear it. Once again, Salazar had succeeded in getting him off topic. He turned and walked back to the wizard who was watching him with a mild expression.

"You know what it felt like yesterday? Like for one minute the entire world had been turned upside down. Our magic went wild and I swear I felt the castle itself sigh," he explained.

"How melodramatic."

"You weren't there, which brings me to my second question. Did you do it?" Godric demanded. Salazar shook his head slowly, looking for all the world like a teacher gently reprimanding his pupil.

"I wasn't there so you accuse me? Really, Godric. I expected better of you."

"I'm accusing you because it usually is your fault, in some way or another. You're the only one I know who had the power to do it," said Godric. That look of confusion was back on Salazar's face again.

"I'm sorry. What exactly do you think I did?" Godric opened his mouth to respond, than closed it. That was the trouble wasn't it? His instincts told him that Salazar had been involved. He had racked his brain and made a discreet inquiry of Rowena, but was no closer to discovering just what Salazar could have done to create such an effect. He turned away to pace and give himself a little more time.

Salazar was interested in a variety of different things. Snakes seemed to be his dominate interest, though that was understandable with him being a parselmouth. He closed his eyes, trying to remember everything he had seen the last time he had been in Salazar's chambers.

Potions. Multi-colored potions in various states of preparation. He snorted. That was hardly surprising. Salazar knew more about potions than their current potion's master, though he preferred not to teach. It didn't matter. No potion could have caused that– he searched for a word to describe the event of the day before – magical storm. What else had there been? A cage of butterflies, with brilliant green and silver wings. He had joked that they were in Slytherin colours, and Salazar had condescendingly told him that that was the point. If butterflies had caused that storm, he was steering clear of all winged insects for life. He tried to think of anything else. There had been books, but it wasn't like he had taken the time to read their titles. A vase of wilted flowers…He frowned. Salazar wouldn't have been stupid enough to leave any evidence around anyway, and there was no way of getting him to explain if he didn't want to. He turned to face the other wizard.

"I know you did it Salazar. I may not know what it is, but I will find out some day." It was a hollow threat, and they both knew it. Salazar gave him a small, infuriating smile and turned to leave. Godric swallowed and grimaced at what he was about to do. So much for the Gryffindor pride.

"Salazar!" he called. The other wizard paused, but did not turn around to face him.

"Yes?"

"A hint my friend. Just one…" He hated to sound so pleading. Salazar turned to face him. He was radiating power.

"A hint," he mused, and Godric held his breath. "All right." He assumed an orator's pose. "All life is a cycle." Godric blinked. That was it? Salazar just grinned at him. "Good luck, Godric," he said and walked out of the room, whistling some obscure tune.


	2. Sands of Time Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "The truth...is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with great caution." - Dumbledore: HP&amp;PS

"The truth...is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with great caution." - Dumbledore: HP&amp;PS

Chapter 1

            "And now let me say a few words: hoover, papilionoidea, mugwump. Thank you. Enjoy the feast." Dumbledore sat down amidst the open mouthed gapes of the first-years and the enthusiastic cheering of the Weasley twins. Ron rolled his eyes, and dug into the feast with gusto, while Hermione appeared to be buried deeply in a book. Harry absently cut up a potato and occupied himself with watching the staff table.

            Professor McGonagall was giving the Headmaster a disapproving look, as he told an animated, and obviously inappropriate joke to the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. The lanky, dark haired professor was visibly sweating under a full strength glare from Professor Snape, while simultaneously trying to follow Dumbledore's tale. Harry quickly looked down at his plate when Snape looked up and transferred the glare to him. A summer serving as a spy obviously hadn't improved Snape's disposition.

            "What are you thinking Harry?" asked Ron around a mouth full of peas. Harry shrugged.

            "Just that Snape still hates me," he said. Ron snorted.

            "And this surprises you?" Harry shook his head.

            "It's rather comforting actually. Snape and the Dursleys will always hate me. And Voldemort," he added as an after thought. Ron was staring at him.

            "I think Dumbledore made a mistake in not letting you come to visit this summer. You've gone mad."

            "Not mad," said Harry thoughtfully, "Just different." And it was true. Over the summer he had had a lot of time to think and come to terms with his life. Somewhere along the way he had started viewing the world in a new way. He could now watch his aunt and uncle fuss over Dudley and be amused by how ridiculous their lives really were. He smiled at this, than refocused on the table. With his newfound insight, he could also see that Neville was being left out of the conversations at the table.

            "How was your summer Neville?" he asked, interrupting Ron's dissertation on the latest broom model. Neville looked a bit flabbergasted at being addressed, but summoned up an answer readily enough.

            "Not too bad. My gran was mostly preoccupied this summer with, well the news about You-Know-Who, and I was able to keep to myself. She did hire me a tutor though."

            "A tutor? How horrible," said Ron. Neville shook his head.

            "Not really. It was better than bothering Hermione all summer for help," he explained. They all looked at Hermione, who was still deep in her book.

            "Are you even going to eat Hermione?" asked Ron. Without looking up, she grabbed a piece of bread and started chewing, eyes still trained on the book. Ron rolled his eyes and Harry had to fight not to start laughing at his friends. Despite their occasional fights, his friends didn't change either.

            The feast was over much quicker than he wanted it to be, and they had moved on to various puddings when Dumbledore stood up to make another announcement.

            "Those of you who were here last year know that I told you of Voldemort's return." A shudder ran through the student body, and suddenly Harry was acutely aware of the various empty seats throughout the hall. Nobody from his year was missing, but Shelly Scrabster, a Gryffindor third-year was missing, as was her brother over in Hufflepuff. There were other blank spaces around the tables that belonged to people he couldn't identify. "Some of your classmates have decided not to return for various reasons." Harry didn't want to know how many of those various reasons included them not being able to return. Or to breath for that matter…The thought made him sick, and he had to close his eyes so he wouldn't see those empty spaces. Dumbledore continued talking however.

"You are perfectly safe here at Hogwarts, though I must sadly inform you that Hogsmeade visits are cancelled for all but seventh-years." The students groaned and Harry wanted to scream at them that Hogsmeade visits were not as important as Voldemort returning. Dumbledore was looking straight at him however, and as usual seemed to know exactly what was going through Harry's mind. "We have not forgotten the events of the past year, and I ask you all to remember the sacrifices of those who have come before you." Dumbledore bowed his head and Harry followed suit, as did most of the students. Harry doubted the Slytherin's were bowing their heads, but he didn't have the strength to look up and see them being so disrespectful. Dumbledore looked up eventually and dismissed them, reminding prefects that they must see the first-years to their common rooms. Ron elbowed Hermione.

"Don't you have to see to the first-years?" he asked. She had been made a prefect over the summer along with Dean Thomas. Hermione slowly shook her head, still reluctant to look away from the book.

"Dean's handling them. I arranged it earlier," she explained. Ron gaped at her.

"Is it just me or did I hear you say you had arranged _not_ to do work?" Hermione blushed.

"This book is just fascinating, and I really want to finish it, and maybe reread it," she added almost to herself. She reluctantly closed the book, and started heading towards Gryffindor with the boys following. Ron looked like he was going to set in on Hermione's reading habits, so Harry spoke up.

"What are you reading Hermione?" She looked grateful he had asked.

"It's called _Foundation_: _A New Look At The Founder's Four_ by Grameyre Studion. It's the latest book on the Founders, but it's almost impossible to find for some reason. It wasn't even in Flourish and Botts. I was forced to order it by post from some obscure shop in Indonesia for a positively blasphemous fee. I only just got it this morning."

"So you like it then?" said Harry, giving her his best deadpan look. Hermione was so engrossed she missed the joke and just looked him incredulously.

"Like it? Look at this!" She flipped through the book to a page filled with someone's tidy handwriting.

"Words? In a book. Why Hermione I'd never have known," said Ron. Hermione glared at him.

"This, I'll have you know, is an excerpt from Helga Hufflepuff's diaries. She gives a fascinating insight into life at Hogwarts a thousand years ago. Look at this entry." She practically shoved the book under their noses, oblivious to the fact that they were blocking the middle of the corridor. Harry adjusted his glasses, and read the neat script.

_Janvier_ _, 12, 991, Saturn is rising tonight,_

_            Salazar has gotten Godric all riled up again. I don't even want to know what it was this time, though I suspect it had something to do with Godric turning up at dinner with green paint smeared all over him. Those two are such children sometimes. Salazar pointed out to me that their practical jokes were teaching the students how to have fun and learn at the same time. I wonder if he understands that he's also encouraging a rivalry between their two houses? He's too intelligent not to notice. One has to wonder why he encourages it then. Perhaps I do not want to know…_

_            Our seventh-year _students_ are making excellent progress on their independent study projects. Rowena has complained that her students are doing too much work, but that was in the middle of praising them effusively. I can understand her feelings. I was so proud when I found some of my Hufflepuff's in the library today instead of out at Hogsmeade. That reminds me, I must arrange with Jeremiah to get a tutor for young Mr. Bragen. He'll never pass Potions without it…_

            The diary entry continued on to the next page, but Ron was looking very impatient with him for actually reading the book instead of staring at it blankly like he had. Hermione was looking anxiously at them for their opinion.

            "It looks interesting," said Harry diplomatically. It was certainly more exciting than her usual _4000 Useless Spells_ or _The History of Magical Buttons_.

            "You can read it when I'm finished if you like."

            "Uh, thanks," he responded, making a mental note to avoid mentioning the Founder's Four for awhile. With luck she would forget her promise.

A Ravenclaw attempted to squeeze by them. "We better get out of the way," he said. They headed off towards Gryffindor tower, the boys chatting and occasionally guiding Hermione as she attempted to read while walking.

*****

Thank you to Ozma, Alchemine, Tidmag, Tracev and Besnapped for your reviews.

Reviews are greatly appreciated:)


	3. Sands of Time Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The first week went by in a blur of activity and work. Their professors obviously believed that good hard work, piled on top of even more hard work, would prepare them for their OWLS. Harry was at a loss to explain how he was supposed to find the time to study for the OWLS while he was occupied with writing such scintillating essays as 'Discuss the importance of frog liver in potions' and 'Explain why the goblin leaders Brack and Brock are not the same goblin'. It was ridiculous really, though Hermione seemed happy that they were finally delving into the "world of minutiae" that she loved. When she had said that, Ron had asked her to delve into it even more and write his own essay if she was so happy. Harry had agreed, though he was bright enough not to say it.

One of the highlights of the year was definitely their new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Professor Elyas was from Greece and spent most of his classes telling exciting stories about his encounters with hydras and chimera in the backwaters of Greece. He assigned very little work as well, which made him a hero in most people's eyes.

Perhaps the only problem with his classes is that they were always running long past the time when they were supposed to be dismissed. Harry and Ron had Divination after Defense, but Hermione was always anxiously debating whether or not to stay and hear the interesting stories (which might, or might not be on the exam) or go to Arthimancy. By second week, Harry was sure she was going to explode with anxiety before running out of the room when Professor Elyas had once again spoken for far too long.

Harry and Ron were slower to gather up their things and begin the long trek to the Divination classroom. Professor Trelawney never seemed to take away points so there was really no reason to arrive on time. They wandered through the castle discussing the upcoming trials for the Gryffindor quidditch team. They were in the corridor outside the room that stood below the Divination classroom when they heard voices. The two of them ducked into a nearby alcove and made themselves as small as possible behind a statue of Catherine the Crazed. Two voices drifted down the corridor.

"Trelawney," hissed Ron.

"And Dumbledore," whispered Harry. They pressed themselves further into the alcove when the voices moved closer, nearly holding their breath as they listened.

"It was there Headmaster, written in my own handwriting! He's going to die I tell you!"

"Now Sybil, there is no need to over react. You've predicted Harry's death hundreds of times," said Dumbledore. Ron tried to catch Harry's eye, but Harry ignored him to focus on the conversation.

"But I don't remember this prophecy! That's always a sign. It's a wonder I was able to write it down," she protested in her airy voice.

"I'm sure all your wonderful years of training are paying off." Harry could see Dumbledore in his mind, eyes twinkling while he spoke.

"Well yes...but Headmaster. Surely we must tell the poor boy? He must know of his fate so that he can prepare for it."

"You may tell him if you like Sybil. No doubt Harry will take your warning to heart. I believe he is in your class at the moment?" Sybil gasped.

"My class! I see great chaos. I must return." They could hear her steps retreating down the corridor. Of Dumbledore, there was no sound. After waiting for a long time, they peeked into the corridor, looking in both directions.

"Nothing," said Ron in disgust. "I don't care what Hermione says, he must be apparating."

"We're going to wish we could apparate if we don't get to class soon," said Harry. He checked his watch. "It's half way through already." They ran towards the classroom, thankful that Trelawney had left the ladder down. From up above they could hear strange noises and a girl screaming. Ron looked at him and Harry shrugged. He climbed slowly up the ladder and poked his head through.

Chaos reigned. It appeared that the teacups had been enchanted to fly around the room. One was gnawing at Lavender's hair and he realized that they were biting tea cups as well. Someone had pulled a huge prank on Trelawney. Their professor seemed to be busy fending off the teacups, so Harry and Ron slipped quietly in and took a seat, doing their best to avoid the flying porcelain.

Harry was prepared to spend the class in his usual stupor, which would give him time to think over the rather alarming conversation he had heard in the corridor. But Trelawney finished up with the teacups, than spotted him in his usual seat.

"Oh you poor boy! Today as I took my tea I had a premonition of your death." She was sobbing and wiping her eyes on her large shawl. The rest of the class were sniggering except for Lavender and Parvati who were frowning at the others for their disrespect. Harry should have expected her to bring it up, but it didn't mean he wasn't annoyed with the professor when she did. A thought occurred to him.

"Professor. I'm rather upset over your news. This is something I really have to think about. If I could have some time..." He trailed off. She swept down on him, and pulled him into a surprise hug.

"Of course. Take all the time you need. You don't have to return if you don't want too." Her voice sounded muffled from where he was being held against her. Harry extricated himself from her grip and grabbed his things while the class stared at him open-mouthed. Ron winked at him, but he didn't return it. He would have felt better about his escape, if he weren't so sure that this time Trelawney's prediction was real.

He stumbled down the ladder, still in a daze, though whether from the smoke or from the prediction he didn't know. There was something else bothering him as well. Dumbledore knew that Trelawney did occasionally give true predictions. One of the biggest signs that she had had one was that she couldn't remember it. But Dumbledore seemed to be dismissing it out of hand, and was even teasing Professor Trelawney, though he wasn't sure if the professor had realized that. No one seemed to realize that Dumbledore was making fun of them when they were talking to him. Harry wondered how many times Dumbledore had been teasing him and he had never known.

However, the more important question was why hadn't the headmaster cared about Trelawney's prediction? Didn't Harry's death matter to him at all? "Maybe he wants my death," thought Harry darkly, but he quickly dismissed the idea as unlikely. Dumbledore had kept him safe for so long. Why would he let him die now? Harry wandered his way down to the Gryffindor common room and reluctantly came to the conclusion that Dumbledore obviously knew something he didn't, though he would keep an eye out. Just in case.

*****

Thanks to my reviewers (by review or email): IcyEyes202, J. Lynn, Luna Rose/Phoenix Child, Em, Tidmag, Queen Shirley, Ozma, Lataradk, besnapped, The Kuro no Tenshi, Kassie, Kay, Alchemine, KK and Hana-chan.

Ozma: The students are either dead or their parents are unwilling to send them.

Kay: I'd like to know where you think I'm going. It's good to know if the mystery part of this story is working or it's just too obvious:)

Next chapter will be up on Thursday if is willing...

Please review:) I'll answer questions too, so long as it doesn't give away the plot;)


	4. Sands of Time Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: As you've noticed, this wasn't up Thursday. By the time I got to the computer, I could no longer upload. Sorry about that.

A/N: As you've noticed, this wasn't up Thursday. By the time I got to the computer, I could no longer upload. Sorry about that.

Chapter 3

            As usual, Quidditch became the dominant focus of Harry's year. Oliver Wood was gone, but that didn't stop the team from practicing nearly every day under the watchful eye of their new captain, Angelina Johnson. She was actually a lot more laid back than Oliver had been, but she also knew the value of practicing constantly. Ron came to every practice and helped out whenever he could. He had tried out for keeper this year, but one of the seventh-years, Oscar Galloway, had tried out and shown a talent greater than Wood's. Harry had wondered why he hadn't joined the team earlier, but realized it was because he really couldn't play any other position and Oscar was too polite to try to displace Oliver Wood.

            They were out on the pitch again, late in October. Angelina had borrowed the Hufflepuff's set of balls and had twice the number of bludgers and quaffles in the game. Oscar had his hands, and at one point his feet, full trying to keep all the quaffles out of the goals, while Fred and George were having fun adding to the confusion with all the extra bludgers. Harry had it the easiest, since it would be pointless to release a second snitch, but he was having trouble concentrating with all the bludgers ricocheting about the pitch.

            He peered around him into the growing darkness. Despite his fervent wish, no flash of gold appeared, though he was nearly hit with a bludger for the third time in the past ten minutes. He spun his broom around, intent on catching one of the twins and reminding them that he wasn't the enemy. He was just in time to see George give an almighty swing with his bat.

Crack! The bludger zoomed diagonally across the field right towards the benches. Harry saw what was going to happen too late. His voice was joined by the twins.

            "RON!" Ron looked up and took the bludger straight in the face. Harry winced, and then winced again at the blood he could see dripping down his friend's face. He landed near the benches and ran over to his friend, followed by the rest of the team.

            Ron had his hands clamped over his face, and his breathing sounded strange. There was blood everywhere. Madame Hooch came over from where she had been tending to the school's brooms.

            "Right," she said, taking stock of the situation. She was forced to duck as a bludger whizzed by. "Potter. Take Weasley up to the hospital wing and see that he's attended to. The rest of you catch all these bludgers." She looked very annoyed. Harry watched as Angelina approached the professor.

            "I'm sorry Professor," she said. Madame Hooch's face softened just slightly as she looked at their team captain.

            "Next time you'll know not to practice with so many balls," she said gruffly. "What are you doing staring, Potter? Get that boy up to the hospital wing!" Startled, Harry turned to help Ron up and walk him towards the castle. He could almost hear Ron gritting his teeth from trying not to show any weakness in front of everyone. It was only after he noticed a drop of blood fall to the ground that he stopped Ron and used his wand to clean off Ron's face and hands. With the blood gone, he was relieved to see that Ron only had a broken nose. He had thought it might be something more serious.

            "Are you okay?" he asked. Ron nodded, than winced.

            "Just get me to the hospital wing." Harry nodded and they began the long walk up to the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey saw to Ron all the while shaking her head and muttering under her breath about the stupid things students did. This didn't seem to stop her from helping Ron though. Harry waited patiently for her to finish, but after giving Ron some foul smelling potion, she turned to him.

            "He's going to have to spend the night here. Can't have him breaking the nose again while it's hardening," she said. Harry looked at Ron. He had collapsed onto the bed and was snoring slightly. That had been one powerful potion. He almost looked dead lying there like that…He must have been staring at Ron for a long time because he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Madame Pomfrey.

            "Why don't you get back to your common room? You'll see him in the morning," she said kindly. He nodded and headed out the door. The corridors were busy with students going to dinner, meaning Harry didn't notice he was surrounded until it was too late. Harry glanced around. Draco had certainly gone all out this time. Crabbe and Goyle were there flanking him, but so were at least five other Slytherin's, each one big enough on their own to eat Harry for breakfast. Harry's hand slipped into his pocket to grip his wand.

            "Well, well. If it isn't Harry Potter, and his fan club is no where in sight," drawled Draco. Harry rolled his eyes and wondered if Draco knew how small and ridiculous he looked against his rhinoceros bodyguards. He also noted just how quickly the corridor had become deserted except for him and the Slytherins. He stood in the middle of their impromptu circle and decided to try a different tact for dealing with Malfoy. Without Ron and his temper here, it just might work. He forced himself to smile slightly at Draco.

            "Hello Draco," he said. It was probably the first time he had used Malfoy's first name. "How have you been?" He walked slowly closer to Malfoy, searching desperately in his pockets for what he wanted. His hand closed around it, and he smiled genuinely this time. "Here, have a jelly slug." He managed to place the slug in Malfoy's astonished hand, then politely pushed his way past Crabbe and continued on his way. He was nearly at the corner before he heard a startled 'hey' from Draco's direction, but he ran the next few steps and jumped on a staircase that was already moving. He tried to focus on climbing the stairs, but Draco was shouting at him through a rapidly disappearing doorway.

            "Potter! Potter!" Harry had to look. The normally pale-faced boy was flushed and looked angry enough to curse him into oblivion if he had had a wand in his hand. Instead, he had a slightly squished jelly slug, which he threw with all his force at Harry. Harry ducked as the slug went flying through the space where his head had been and landed with a squelch on the landing.

            Harry looked back at Draco and found the wall closed up, a portrait of an old man moving into place on top of it. He grinned as he remembered the look on Draco's face after he gave him the jelly slug. Ron was going to be sorry he had missed it.

*****

Thanks to all my reviewers: Ozma, abby, besnaped, pinkmoon, Otaku freak, Tidmag, gjegje, and Elegeia.

Ozma: I've decided that some fourth years from the class before Harry's enchanted the tea cups, since we can't let the Weasley twins have all the fun:)

Abby: Where is Snape? In my closet…just kidding:) He's actually having his own thoughts about Dumbledore, but since this story is written from Harry's point of view you have to wait a few chapters before their investigations converge.

Besnapped: There will be lots of Snape. I promise:)

Tidmag: Hehe. I like your theory, though Dumbledore is so much cooler than the Mayor. I never realised that musical instruments escaped at all…

Gjegje: More of Uric will be posted as soon as I finish writing it. Chapters 18 and 19 are sorta the climax of the story so they're requiring a lot of thought on my part. It'll be up as soon as I finish it.

Elegeia: I'm glad you liked my choice of focus on Dumbledore so much:)

Thanks for reading. Please review:)


	5. Sands of Time Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4

Chapter 4

            Harry slowly ate his sausages and toast. He glanced at the Head table again and tried to figure out what was bothering him. There was Hagrid at one end eating a huge tomato he must have grown specially in his garden. Professor Flitwick was chattering excitedly with Professor Sinistra, and Professor Elyas was telling the Headmaster one of his long-winded stories to which Dumbledore seemed to be avidly listening. Harry's eyes drifted to his least favourite teacher, and he realized what was wrong. Snape wasn't glaring at anyone.

            His face was turned towards the left of the hall, but his eyes were focused on the Head table. At first, Harry thought he was watching Professor Elyas, but then he realized that Snape's hard, black eyes were focused on the Headmaster. Harry frowned. Professor Snape might hate a lot of people. In fact, he seemed to hate, or at least dislike anyone who wasn't a Slytherin, but Dumbledore had always been a notable exception. Snape was looking at Dumbledore with suspicion; something Harry should recognize since he had been under that same gaze many a time. He caught Ron and Hermione's eyes.

            "Snape is watching Dumbledore. It's all he's been doing all morning," he said. Ron shrugged.

            "So maybe he's mad at him. It wouldn't be a first." Harry shook his head.

            "But if Snape were mad a Dumbledore, he would be glaring openly at him, not watching him covertly," Harry protested. Hermione glanced up at the table.

            "He probably thinks Dumbledore is up to something," she said. Harry smiled, glad that she had caught his point.

            "Exactly! But up to what?"

            "You're looking into this too much, Harry," said Ron. "And why are you watching that slime ball so much anyway? Do you fancy him?" Harry threw one of his sausages at Ron and they became involved in a mild food fight until Hermione threatened to use her prefect privileges to break them up. They settled down to their breakfasts, but Harry couldn't help but glance worriedly at the Head table. Sure, Snape was a git and hated him, but he was also one of the most perceptive teachers around. He knew everything that went on in his class. Harry had lost count of all the times Snape had caught him or another Gryffindor in the act. And Snape had been the only person in the school to suspect Quirrell…

            "Harry, are you coming?" asked Ron. Harry snapped out of his daze. He looked around and saw that breakfast was over.

            "I'm coming," he said, and followed Ron out the door. There they caught up with Hermione, who was rereading _Foundation_: _A New Look At The Founder's Four_ for the third (or was this the fourth?) time.

            "Why don't you just memorize the book, Hermione? It would be easier than rereading it every week," said Ron. She looked up at him, and closed the book, though Harry noticed she kept her finger on the page she was reading.

            "I do not reread it every week. You haven't memorized _Flying with the Canons_ despite reading it hundreds of times over the past year," she said in an annoyed tone.

            "But _Flying With the Canons_ is quality literature," Ron protested. Both Hermione and Harry rolled their eyes.

They reached the door to their first class, History of Magic and took their customary seats. Harry and Ron sat near the back while Hermione sat up front so she didn't miss anything. Professor Binns floated in through the door and they settled down for another mind numbing lecture.

            Harry rested his chin on his arms and watched Binn through drooping eyelids. He had had a late Quidditch practice the day before, not to mention a last minute Herbology essay, so he had ample excuse to not pay attention.

            "Miss. Granger! What are you reading?" Harry jerked his head up and stared at the front of the room. He had never heard Binns use that tone of voice before. The ghost was staring at Hermione with what would have been a hard expression had it not been delivered by someone you could see the black board through.

            "A book, Sir," answered Hermione. Her voice was trembling slightly.

            "Let me see." Professor Binns floated over his desk and craned his head over Hermione's book. Harry was surprised to see Binns pick up the book and slam it shut. "I'm sorry Miss. Granger. That book is on the list of forbidden tomes. I'm going to have to confiscate it." He floated over to his desk and placed the book carefully on top of it.

            "But, Sir!" Hermione sounded flustered.

            "Yes, Miss. Granger?" There was something very disconcerting about the ghost's stare, and it wasn't even directed at Harry.

            "Nothing, Sir," she said. When the class was over, she was the first out of the room. She must have started running because she was gone by the time Harry and Ron left the room. They walked slowly towards Herbology, but there was no Hermione.

            Professor Sprout set them to work collecting the seeds of the epherus plant. The plant grew from the ceiling of the green house and they had to use little nets to capture the seeds as they flitted about. Hermione appeared about half way through the lesson, and after reporting to Sprout, joined them in their seed collecting. She began to use the net with a vengeance, nearly destroying one of the plants in her anger.

            "What happened?" asked Harry, trying to keep his voice low. Professor Sprout was already sending glares their way for Hermione's treatment of the plants. Hermione stopped beating the plants as she answered.

            "I went to Professor McGonnagal and asked if there wasn't some mistake."

            "What mistake? You were reading a book in Binn's class, so he confiscated it," said Ron as he captured a particularly flighty seed. Hermione glared at him.

            "I've read in Professor Binn's class before and he's never cared, though that's not the point. I checked the list of restricted books at the beginning of this year. _Foundation: A New Look At The Founder's Four _was not on it! Do you really think I would be stupid enough to read a forbidden book in front of a teacher?" Ron looked taken aback.

            "I didn't mean-" he said. Hermione sighed.

            "It's okay, Ron. Professor McGonnagal showed me the list. Even if the book wasn't on there at the beginning of the year, it's on there now. She was disappointed I even had a book on that list, though I hardly think a book on the Founders compares to a book on human sacrifice or deadly hexes!" She viciously captured two seeds that were fluttering dangerously close to Harry's head. He ducked out of the way. If there was anything Hermione hated worse than being in trouble, it was being in trouble for something she hadn't done.

            "Why do you think it was confiscated then?" he asked. Hermione shook her head.    "That's just it. There was nothing in that book to get it confiscated. I even remember Dumbledore seeing me reading the book a few days ago and he told me how proud he was to see a student doing extracurricular reading."

            "Maybe he didn't know what you were reading," suggested Ron.

            "He asked me if I liked chapter seven. He couldn't have known about chapter seven."

            "What's so special about chapter seven?" asked Ron.

            "It's very short, but it has an excerpt from Salazar Slytherin's notes."

            "That's fascinating Miss. Granger, but would you please focus on the seeds in front of you?" said the voice of Professor Sprout. The professor was standing only a few feet behind them. Hermione looked embarrassed and concentrated on capturing the seeds. When Ron attempted to bring the subject up again once the professor had left, Hermione shushed him. Harry went back to the see collecting and considered the whole incident. Here was another example of Dumbledore acting strangely. What did a book on the Founders and a prediction of his death have in common? He was no closer to an answer when the class ended.

*****

Thanks to my reviewers: Tidmag, Sailor Book/Water Mistress, Hana-chan, Zardiphillian Beryllix, Lataradk, IncubusSuccubus, Elegeia, Ozma and Otaku freak.

As usually seems to happen when I write a story, I'll be sending out an email letting anyone know when there's a new chapter. Leave your email in the review and say you want to be on the list and I will let you know about new chapters. I am away on holiday atm, but for anyone who wants to know, I am writing like crazy and working on all the various stories I have up here:)

Tidmag: Chapter 6 if my calculations are correct. I'm writing Uric, don't worry:) I'll be reading rabbit's jinx stories soon.

Zardiphillian Beryllix: I've always found evil to be such a generic term. No one is ever wholly evil.

Lataradk: bows I am honoured by your trust:) We're not too many chapters away from Snape taking a larger role…

IncubusSuccubus: Email shall be sent. I wanted Harry to be more mature for this story, since most people write him as a basket case after fourth year. I wanted him to learn from the experience and gain some strength and maturity instead.

Elegeia: Inspiration is always so much fun:)

Ozma: What dedication. I bet you just missed ;) The majority of the stories I've read seem to make the twins joint captains, or Harry, so I decided to be different.

Thanks for reading. Please review:)


	6. Sands of Time Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 5

Chapter 5

            It was a dreary day. The rain had been falling continuously since late the night before, and Quidditch practice had been cancelled for the evening. It didn't help that the Daily Prophet this morning had reported a large attack by Voldemort on the Department of Mysteries. No one was supposed to know where the Department of Mysteries was. That Voldermort had gotten in so easily did not bode well for the rest of the wizarding world.

Everything in the castle seemed to have a grey caste to it, and nearly everyone was feeling out of sorts. Even the usually cheerful Flitwick snapped at a student in class and took away a large amount of points from Hufflepuff.

Hermione was still upset about her book. She would go to classes and study, but it seemed like she wasn't really paying attention to anything at all. The Chudley Cannons had spectacularly lost yet another match, which could have explained Ron's disquiet, but Harry suspected it was Hermione's problem that was bothering his friend.

Harry watched Ron stare at Hermione and Hermione stare off into space, and reflected that perhaps his newfound maturity wasn't worth it. He was growing embarrassed at the entire situation between Ron and Hermione. Where before he would just have been able to start a conversation with Ron as if nothing were wrong, now he knew something was wrong and didn't know how to deal with it. Harry sighed and reflected that he was probably depressed himself. He hated growing up.

The class ended. They all gathered up their books and headed for the doors. Hermione went off to Ancient Runes, while Harry and Ron had a free period. If it had been nicer out, they would have gone outside, but today they headed for the one place they knew no one would be – the library. Harry sat down disconsolately and said the first thing that came to his mind.

"We need to get Hermione's book back," he said. Hermione would stop mopping then, and Ron would go back to his usual slightly rude self. Harry thought it was remarkable that Ron hadn't said something upsetting to Hermione so far, but thought that Ron could not make it another day without doing so. Ron seemed thrilled by the idea and was immediately ready for them to take the entire school on.

Harry had to pause for a moment to think of a plan, but Ron's excitement was catching. Perhaps after they found the book, things would return to normal. Well, as normal as things got when someone was predicting his death, Voldemort was trying to kill him and his professors were acting strangely.

"We have another free period later today, right?" he asked. Ron nodded.

"Yeah, but only because Hagrid let those pogrebins loose on the grounds," said Ron. Harry grimaced as he remembered the dumpy little creatures that followed people around and caused despair. He wondered fleetingly if there were a few loose in Hogwarts today.

"Well, usually when something is confiscated it goes to Filch," he said, thinking out loud. "But this was a book, and from the way they've been treating it - a Dark Arts book." He couldn't help but remember Helga Hufflepuff's innocent diary entry and decided that he agreed wholeheartedly with Hermione about how 'dangerous' the book really was. "So, when something illegal is confiscated like that it goes to our Head of House so that they can deal with it. That's probably why Hermione went to Professor McGonagall in the first place." Ron's eyes widened.

"You mean we're going to have to sneak into McGonagall's office?" he asked incredulously. Harry shrugged.

"At least we know she'll be out of it during our free period. She teaches the third-years then. We just have to get my cloak and the map now, than wait until then," he said, hoping it would really be that easy. 

            They had their free period after Herbology. They hurried inside, anxious to get out of the light, yet penetrating drizzle that was descending from the grey sky. Harry and Ron broke away from the rest of the Gryffindors saying they were going to the library. This produced a strange look from Neville, but not even Hermione seemed to care where they were going.

            A quick look at the map revealed that McGonagall was indeed in her classroom, leaving her office tantalizingly empty. Harry nodded to Ron, and they both crowded under the invisibility cloak. It was getting harder to fit since both of them had grown over the summer, but so long as they were careful it still covered them. Harry kept the map close to him so that he could continue to check it throughout their little raid.

            "Ready?" he whispered. Ron nodded, and they began their careful progress down the corridor. The office door was locked, but a simple alohomora took care of that. They were lucky that McGonagall didn't use any magical shields around her office, at least not during the day time.

            Professor McGonagall's office was very neat, and tidy. It didn't take much imagination on Harry's part to see McGonagall sitting primly in her place behind the neatly ordered desk, but he had been in here too many times in his Hogwart's career to even need his imagination. Ron reached back and shut the door. They shed the cloak. Ron headed immediately to the bookcase spanning one side of the room.

            "Do you think she'd just leave it here?" asked Ron, looking doubtfully at the huge bookcase full of faded tomes. Harry shrugged, and went to search her desk. If he didn't find anything in the drawers, he would help Ron search the bookcase.

            Harry hesitantly pulled open the top most drawer, but only found spare quills and parchment. He stared in puzzlement at a small clothe ball. It was green and looked handmade. With a quick glance at the map to see that McGonagall was still occupied, he reached down and picked it up. A familiar scent wafted up. He could remember being overwhelmed by it at Mrs. Figg's house. He grinned. Who would have thought that McGonagall kept a ball of catnip in her drawer?

            He quickly put it back, and opened the deeper drawer below the first one. Underneath a couple of rolls of student's essays, he found what he was looking for. _Foundation: A New Look At The Founder's Four_ by Grameyre Studion. Harry pulled out the book triumphantly.

            "Ron!" he called. His friend turned around and saw the book. A look of relief appeared on his face. It couldn't have been easy reading all those faded titles, and Ron looked like he hadn't even made it halfway through the bookcase. Checking the map once more to make sure that McGonngal wasn't standing just outside the door, they threw on the invisibility cloak and made their way outside.

            Harry couldn't wait to see the look on Hermione's face when they returned her book to her and from the look of it neither could Ron.

*****

Thanks to all my reviewers: Tidmag, IncubusSuccubus, Zardiphillian Beryllix, Prophetess of Hearts, Wolfie Jr., Lataradk, nightshade, wilde_roses, Ozma, Deity, KaTiE, In Your Face, Elegeia, and Psychotic Candle.

Next chapter: Filch and Snape, though not in the same scene…I should have new chapters of Intersections and Uric up soon as well since I'm back from holiday…

Zardiphillian Beryllix: Yes and no evil grin

Lataradk: Well, not one of them suspected Moody/Crouch Jr. so I suppose we can forgive them if even Dumbledore was fooled. Not really sure how fooled he was in Quirrell's case…

Diety: Snape comes in the next chapter:)

In Your Face and Psychotic Candle: While I like to consider myself a good writer;) I am not a fast writer. These chapters take me a long time to write (about 3-4 hours for two single-spaced typed pages) and I have to find that time while having a full time job and/or attending university. It takes me about a week to write two pages, so if you wanted longer chapters you would have to wait a lot longer in between chapters which most people would rather not do. This is not mentioning the other stories I write on here, or the occasional bout of writers block…Two page chapters are convenient for me and let you guys actually read something every week or so. Hope you don't mind:)

Elegeia: Next chapter;)

Thanks for reading. Please review:)


	7. Sands of Time Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 6

Chapter 6

            Hermione scolded them soundly when they returned the book to her. But Harry could see she was pleased to have it back, and she transfigured its cover into something totally different so that she could carry it around with impunity. He had expected Professor McGonnagal to question them about the disappearance of the book, but she never mentioned it. After a few tense weeks, even Hermione admitted that she didn't think anyone was going to come looking for it.

            Something about the situation bothered Harry, which was how he found himself standing outside Mr. Filch's office one evening. He stared at the door and told himself that he was crazy to do this, but his body didn't seem to be listening. He knocked on the door and waited. He knew he wasn't Filch's favourite person, but surely the man couldn't refuse such a reasonable request? He just hoped that Mrs. Norris didn't claw his skin off the moment he stepped in the room.

            The door was opened by the grizzled caretaker who frowned terribly at him. "What do you want?" asked Filch gruffly. His cat, Mrs. Norris, meowed at his feet. Harry gave them a nervous look.

            "I'd like to see the list of restricted books, Mr. Filch," he said. A strange glint appeared in Filch's eyes.

            "You want to see the list?" he asked in an incredulous tone. Harry nodded.

            "Yes, Sir." Filch shook his head in wonder and ushered him into the office. The caretaker mumbled to himself as he searched through one of the drawers on the desk, before handing Harry a very long role of parchment. Harry grimaced when he saw how thick it was.

            "Can I take this with me?" he asked, though he didn't expect to get permission.

            "No!" said Filch sharply. "But you can read it in here." He gestured towards one of the rickety chairs he kept for students to use while he wrote up their detentions. Harry hesitantly took a seat, hoping that the chair didn't collapse on him. He unrolled the parchment and started reading.

            Nearly an hour later, he looked up from the role and blinked his eyes to clear them. He had been amused to find one of Gilderoy Lockhart's books on the list (pencilled in a suspiciously Weasley looking handwriting), but there had been no sign of what he was looking for. _Foundation: A New Look At The Founder's Four _was not on the list.

            Harry stood up and handed the list back to Mr. Filch who had been filling out detention forms and sending furtive glances Harry's way. "Thank you, Mr. Filch. I'll be sure to keep away from those," he added on an impulse.

            "See that you do," said Filch. He looked very happy, and Harry made a vow to himself to avoid the books on that list, or at least the Lockhart one. He wandered slowly back to the Common Room, trying to make sense of everything in his mind, but his thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of Dumbledore.

            The Headmaster didn't seem to notice him as he wandered past to climb up a little used staircase at the end of the corridor. Harry didn't even pause to think before he quietly followed him up the stairs.

            He employed all his skills at following someone, gleaned from four long years at Hogwarts. It would have been easier with the invisibility cloak, but he thought he did a good job without it. Dumbledore certainly didn't notice anything. The Headmaster continued to wander the corridors at a slow pace, humming to himself. Harry began to wonder if following him was worthwhile.

            Suddenly, Dumbledore stopped in the middle of the corridor he had just turned into. Harry froze near the corner he had been about to turn and watched the Headmaster out of the corner of his eye. Dumbledore chuckled to himself, than turned back the way he had come. Harry ran for his life down the corridor and turned into the first room he could find.

            It was dark, but Harry was more interested in peering out a crack in the door to see Dumbledore.

            "See anything interesting?" said a voice in his ear. Harry froze and nearly jumped when a few torches in the room lit up. Snape was standing right next to him with an angry look on his face. Harry blinked at him in surprise. What was Snape doing in a disused classroom in one of the more abandoned parts of Hogwarts? The wizard ignored him, and gazed out the same crack Harry had been using. Harry could see the shadow as Dumbledore passed by the room. Snape nodded to himself, than turned to Harry.

            "What are you doing watching the Headmaster, Potter?" Snape was practically spitting at him. Harry glared back at him. Snape had been watching the Headmaster as well. That was the only explanation for him catching him. He wanted to shoot Snape's question right back at him, well minus the Potter part, but talking back to Snape was suicide.

            "I wasn't watching him. I forgot a book in class and I went to fetch it," he said.  Snape sneered at him.

            "Last time I checked Potter-," He made a gesture to encompass the classroom they were in. "You don't take Muggle Studies." Harry frowned inwardly and looked around the room. Now that he looked, the room was full of muggle artefacts. Something that looked suspiciously like a disassembled computer was taking up most of the desk space, while light bulbs littered the ceiling making a forest of hanging bulbs.

            "I must have walked into the wrong classroom," he muttered. It was partially true at least. He certainly hadn't intended to come in here. Snape smiled in triumph.

            "Detention Potter, tomorrow night and twenty points from Gryffindor," he said. Harry grimaced but didn't protest. Snape could easily double that or make him do detention all week. Harry opened the door to go, but stopped when a thought occurred to him.

            Maybe he should ask Snape about Snape's own spying on Dumbledore? The worst the wizard could do was take away more points, or give him another detention. He might not even do that. If Snape took too many points, or gave too many detentions, Harry was sure the professor would have to explain himself to Dumbledore, something Snape would not want to do. Harry let the door swing closed again, and saw that Snape was watching him impatiently.

            "You forget your non-existent textbook again, Potter?" he sneered. Harry shook his head.

            "Professor Snape?" he said.

            "Yes, Potter?" said Snape in a dangerous tone. Harry took a deep breath.

            "Do you think the Headmaster has been acting oddly?" he said in a rush, then watched Snape carefully. For the briefest of moments, Harry thought Snape was going to answer 'yes', but then Snape drew himself up with dignity and replied in his most sarcastic tone.

            "The Headmaster is under a lot of stress for some reason. No doubt it's due to that flock of crows that has started roosting on the North tower. It certainly couldn't be Voldemort that's bothering him. Dismissed, Potter and ten points from Gryffindor." Harry left the room and walked slowly down the corridor, unconsciously heading towards Gryffindor tower. His thoughts were confused again.

            Was it just him, or had Snape been _too_ sarcastic?

*****

Thanks to all my reviewers: Deity, Rainbow, Lady Lightning, Zardiphillian Beryllix, IncubusSuccubus, Nagini, besnapped, Ozma, gina87, Elegeia, Ashfae, Gred Weasley and Pinkmoon.

Next chapter: Harry learns a few things and makes a discovery.

Rainbow: Dumbledore's look of triumph, along with basically anything he's ever done in the books will come into this at some point. Sirius and Remus will be mentioned in this story. Not sure if they will be making appearances though…

Nagini: I think there would have to be some charm on most books to prevent out right copying of the entire thing since there would be no point in buying a book in the first place if you could just get a free copy off of someone else. Harry was counting on McGonnagal not being able to prove anything one way or another.

Besnapped: Hermione has mellowed out a little as she grows up and she wasn't about to tell Harry and Ron to hand it back.

Ozma: Hermione advocated leaving the book topic alone for awhile so that McGonnagal wouldn't get suspicious. Harry didn't even tell her that he was going to check with Filch.

Elegeia: I doubt there is a teenager in the world who hasn't thought for a moment that they didn't want to grow up. I'll let you know if Harry starts wanting to wear green tights and hang about with fairies…gosh, that sounds evil…

Gred Weasley: I have a tendency to get very lazy in the summer as well, though this year I seem to be working like crazy with very little time for anything:( I'm glad you liked the way I wrote Harry. I got sick of Harry being a basket case after fourth year too, though sometimes it is rather amusing…

Thanks for reading everyone. What did you think of Snape's entrance into the story? Got any ideas what Dumbledore is up to? Any questions? I enjoy answering them:) Please review. Cheers.


	8. Sands of Time Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 7

Chapter 7

            Harry entered the boy's dormitory. Ron was sprawled across his bed doing some homework for once. Harry did a quick check for anyone else in the room before sitting down on his bed.

            "Ron?"

            "Hmm?"

            "You remember Trelawney's prediction for my death? The real one that Dumbledore covered up?" Harry asked.

            "Yes," said Ron. He looked confused as to where Harry was going with his questioning.

            "I checked the forbidden book list today. Hermione's book isn't even on it. I think Dumbledore had it put on there, just so he could have the professors take it away from Hermione," Harry explained. Ron frowned at him.

            "But why?" he asked. "And why would he let us take it back?"

"I don't know, but he's been acting oddly…" Harry trailed off. Ron shook his head stubbornly.

"It just doesn't make sense. Dumbledore wouldn't do that. He protects us. Next you'll be saying he's working with You-Know-Who," he said. Harry frowned.

            "I'm not saying that, Ron. I'm just saying that Dumbledore's been acting oddly. Even Snape thinks so." It was the wrong thing to say.

            "So even that gits opinion matters over mine?" said Ron heatedly.

            "I'm not saying that! But he was right about Quirrell and I saw him tonight, spying on Dumbledore, same as I was."

            "You were spying on Dumbledore?" Ron's voice was very loud. Harry motioned him to lower it. "You were spying on Dumbledore?" repeated Ron in a lower voice.

            "Yes. Not that I learnt anything, but I've got a detention with Snape to prove it," said Harry. Ron gave him a sympathetic look.

            "Look, Harry. I know you think that Dumbledore is up to something and maybe he is, but can you imagine him ever doing anything bad? You told me once that the only way you got through the Chamber of Secrets was because of your loyalty to Dumbledore. So why don't we keep that loyalty and let Dumbledore get about his business." It was the most eloquent speech Ron had ever given. Harry was stunned and relieved. Even if Ron wasn't agreeing with him, at least it didn't seem like he was the only one developing a little maturity.

            "Alright," said Harry. He got up from the bed. "I'll just let Hermione know what's going on." He entered the Common Room, but when he saw Hermione sitting at one of the couches measuring one of her essays, he just didn't feel like telling her. He approached her couch.

            "Hermione," he said once he had made sure no one else was in the Common Room. "Do you think I could borrow your book, _Useful Household Charms_?" He felt silly asking for the Founder's book under that name, but that was the new title that Hermione had chosen. Hermione's eyes widened at his request. She smiled happily at him.

"Of course," she said, jumping up to get it. "I'm glad you're interested." She disappeared up the stairs to the girl's dorm.

            "So am I," said Harry to the air. She was back in a few seconds and shoving the book in his hands. "Er, is it alright if I read this in the dorm?" If he sat out here, she was going to want his opinion and he needed to read uninterrupted, at least for tonight.

            "Just don't lose it," said Hermione in a stern tone. He nodded and headed to the boy's dorm. The curtains around Ron's bed were closed. Harry said good night to Neville, who was in bed reading, then pulled the curtains closed around his own bed. He settled down with the book on the pillow in front of him and flipped to the most likely spot he could think of: Chapter 7.

            Hermione had been right. It was very short, but what it said was fascinating, in a cryptic sort of way.

            _8/Feb/991 – Godric came to visit today. I just barely managed to get Striker around my neck before he burst in. An adder around your neck really keeps Gryffindor at a distance. Perhaps I should recommend it to my Slytherins? I like to think that Godric and I are friends of a sort, despite our rivalry, but he must know me better than I thought since he homed right in on the butterflies in the corner. I put him off, but the whole encounter has made me nervous. I must do this soon._

_            9/Feb/991 – The mason finally delivered. _

_            13/Feb/991 – The old writers are fools. Times of precedence they speak of! But they forget that wizards make their own time, and my time is now. I have told everyone that I will be working diligently on an important experiment – that one I did months ago on the various truth potions that I never got around to revealing to my colleagues or the world at large. Godric will be suspicious, even more so if I end up dead on my dungeon floor. Knowing Gryffindor, he'd just think it was part of a larger conspiracy. When did he get to be more paranoid than I am?_

_            Rowena is the dangerous one. I have left no clues that I know of, but she has the uncanny ability of creating something out of nothing. I shall encourage Godric to pester her. She does not think so well when he is annoying her. Helga, I am tempted to inform. Maybe if it works I will. She would approve in some ways, in others…Perhaps I will not tell her after all. She is better left to her weaving._

            Harry flipped to the next page. Nothing. He flipped back and looked down at the two pages written in a firm and elegant hand. Slytherin had been up to something. Something to do with butterflies, danger and perhaps, stone. He was tempted to think of the Chamber of Secrets, but that didn't explain away the butterflies and no one should have been safer in the Chamber than Salazar Slytherin himself.

            Something that Hufflepuff might have approved of as well. Harry hadn't known Helga Hufflepuff, but he had known Cedric Diggory. There was no doubt in his mind that Cedric was a perfect example of Hufflepuff house. He asked himself the question again. What was Slytherin doing that Cedric Diggory would have approved us, at least partially?

            He stared blankly at the page. Wild thoughts floated through his mind, and just as quickly were discarded. No wonder Hermione had found this chapter so fascinating.

*****

So sorry about the wait, but I lost half this chapter and couldn't find it until a thorough search. This was probably the last chapter without Snape in it, which I know will make all you Snape lovers out there happy…

Next chapter: Harry finds yet another clue, and faces detention with Snape.

Thanks to my reviewers: Indiana Jones, Silver Firefly, Bookworm2000, Dusty!!!, IncubusSuccubus, In Your Face, Besnapped, Hana-chan, Sophie W., guess, Zardiphillian Beryllix, Alchemine, Atheis and Aeris Gainsbourough, Ozma, Wilde_roses, pinkmoon, Acacia Jules, Kelsey and Terra.

Besnapped: I never thought of it that way, but thinking of the list as a reading recommendation would probably be a good reaction on Filch's part. Not telling about Dumbledore yet. Thanks for the support:)

Sophie W.: When Hermione looked at the list, it did have the book on it. It had just been removed by the time Harry got to the list. And who said Dumbledore is worrying about house rivalries at this point?:)

Guess: No, though one part of your theory is correct:) But which one?…insert evil laughter here

Zardiphillian Beryllix: I suppose it's about time that Harry starts to trust him. How many times have they thought Snape was evil?…

Alchemine: Thanks:) I'm glad the mystery part is working since I've technically never written one before:)

Atheis and Aeris Gainsbourough: Your review made me laugh. Thanks:)

Ozma: Your right about why the book was on the list, and now that Harry's read it…

Wilde_roses: No imperius:) The mystery goes much deeper.

Pinkmoon: Chapter 9 or 10 are when explanations start I believe.

Acacia Jules and Kelsey: I explained why the chapters are so short in chapter 5 and I've taken the spaces out of the answer section so it takes up less space.

Terra: Thanks, and I promise all your questions will be answered:)

Thanks for reading. Please review.


	9. Author's Note

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note:

Author's Note:

As of today, I am leaving on an archaeological dig for the next six weeks. I will be without access to a computer, which means that nothing will be updated (or reviewed) until October. I'm sorry about this, but I ran out of time to write. I will be writing while I am away, but it will be the traditional way on pen and paper.

Thank you to everyone for your patience,

Ariana Deralte


	10. Sands of Time Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 8

Chapter 8

            Harry headed down to Snape's office ten minutes early for his detention. He had already arrived late for one of Snape's detentions this year and was unwilling to repeat the experience. Most of the day, he was distracted by his thoughts about the whole situation with Dumbledore. And then there was his strange dream.

            Cedric Diggory had been talking to a sinister looking wizard that Harry was sure was Salazar Slytherin. Slytherin was asking Cedric for his approval, but just as he started to explain what he wanted approval of, Dumbledore appeared and began cheerfully telling Cedric that he was dead. Both Slytherin and Cedric transformed into a flutter of green and silver butterflies that circled around Dumbledore before flying away. Dumbledore started speaking to him then, but Harry couldn't remember what he had said, especially after Ron shouted in his ear for him to wake up.

            He had been wondering about it ever since, much to his detriment in Transfiguration and Potions. McGonnagal had nearly given him another detention, and Snape had taken away at least twenty points. Binns at least hadn't noticed his distraction. But Harry could have sworn that Snape had been distracted as he was, which perhaps explained why Harry arrived at Snape's door and found it locked with no light showing through the crack at the bottom.

            Harry had never seen Snape arrive late for a detention. Maybe the older wizard was off doing some investigating of his own. He tried to imagine what specifically Snape could be doing, but nothing came to mind. He knocked loudly on the door, than waited. Nothing.

            With a guilty look down the corridor, he attempted 'alohomora'. The spell shot out of his wand and hit the keyhole of the door. But instead of the lock clicking open, the keyhole glowed an orange colour for a moment, than a beam of magic shot out and hit Harry hard in the chest. He was thrown back in the air, and crashed down hard against the cold dungeon floor.

            He lay there stunned for a moment, than pushed himself up. Something crackled under him. It was a piece of parchment. He picked it up and accidentally read the first line on the page. In a spidery scrawl it read 'Dear Remus,' Harry sat up straighter and allowed himself to read the rest.

            _Dear Remus,_

_            How are you and Snuffles? Before you ask, Harry is doing well. His grades in Transfiguration are as high as they are low in Potions. The usual precautions as to the authentication of this letter apply. _

_            This is perhaps not the best place to write this, but I must ask you to go on a mission. With Voldemort in control of Azkaban, we need all the support we can find. There is a vampire haven near the island. I want you both to go there and try to persuade them to join our side. You may offer them anything you like, including blood, for without them on our side we have no chance. _

_            Please take care. I have no need to remind you of the danger a vampire can pose._

_                                                            Albus Dumbledore_

            Harry's first thought was that the letter was a fake. Perhaps it was a scheme of Voldemort's to make him mistrust Dumbledore, though that didn't really explain Dumbledore's reaction to the prophecy of Harry's death, or the whole fiasco with Hermione's book. Unless someone was using polyjuice potion again, but surely no one could manage to do that after Crouch Jr.

            Harry was startled out of his thoughts by the arrival of Professor Snape. Snape saw him, spotted the letter and got a very angry look on his face.

            "Into my office, Potter. Now!" Harry complied, though he was a bit worried when Snape locked the door behind him.

            "Where did you get that letter?" Snape demanded.

            "It was on the floor outside your office," said Harry indignantly. Snape might be suspicious of Dumbledore, but he was more suspicious of Harry any day.

            "So you just picked it up and read it," said Snape sarcastically. Harry opened his mouth to defend himself, than stopped. That was just what Snape wanted wasn't it? It was the same as when Draco confronted him all the time.

            "Maybe I didn't read it," he said as calmly as he could. Snape raised an eyebrow.

            "That's funny because the hands of anyone who read that letter turn purple," said Snape. Harry looked at his hands. They were the same as usual and he realized what had just happened. Snape had tricked him and now he knew that Harry had read the letter. "One of Dumbledore's little jokes I imagine," Snape continued casually. Harry looked back up at him.

            "Or yours," he said.

            "Merely a test, but maybe you won't be caught by it next time," responded Snape. Harry was astonished. Snape never talked to him this way, but then he continued. "For your detention tonight, you'll be extracting the poison from the sulphur root. Wear dragon hide gloves and follow the instructions in this book." He tapped a book on the counter beside his desk. "Maybe you'll even learn something." Harry thought that it was likely he would learn what a sulphur root burn felt like, but started working anyway.

            He worked in silence, but his mind was on a totally different matter. He had lived the first years of his life on his own. Adults weren't to be trusted and neither were most of the other children he knew. Everyone didn't care, or couldn't really help him. There were a few he had come to trust. Ron, Hermione, Dumbledore, Professor Lupin and Sirius. Ron and Hermione seemed to think he was acting paranoid. And he wasn't sure if he trusted Dumbledore anymore. If the letter was true, than Sirius and Lupin were in danger. How could the Dumbledore he knew offer vampires blood to seal a deal?

            He glanced at Snape, who was taking notes from a book on his desk. Snape was his real problem. Neither of them trusted the other, but Harry had somehow come to trust Snape's instincts. His Slytherin instincts.

            "Get to work, Potter!" Harry jumped and nearly spilled the vile full of armadillo bile he was holding. Snape saw what he was going and came around to snatch the vile out of his hand. "What are you doing? You only need half this much or else the mixture will over boil." His hand stabbed down on a small note at the bottom of the page. "You're supposed to read _all_ the instructions." Harry grimaced. It was a pretty stupid place to put such an important instruction. His mind wandered back to Dumbledore's instructions. Dangerous instructions.

            "Potter!" Harry realized Snape had been speaking to him. "You had better pay attention, or else you'll be doing this again with me tomorrow." Snape's voice was dripping with menace. Harry looked at him for a moment and decided he was willing to accept the consequences if it got him some answers. And who better to ask about dark arts than Snape?

            "Do you know anything about vampires, Sir?" he asked. Snape stared hard at him before answering.

            "I know enough," he said noncommittally.

            "Can they drink from someone without killing them?" Harry asked anxiously.

            "Yes," Snape said and Harry felt his spirits soar. Maybe Dumbledore knew what he was doing. "But not without making the person they drink from their mental slave, or another vampire."

            "But Dumbledore can't do that!" protested Harry. "He would never sacrifice someone just to make a deal."

            "How do you know he hasn't done it before?" asked Snape wearily. He seemed to take in Harry's incredulous look. "But much as it galls me, I agree with you. Dumbledore wouldn't sacrifice anyone, even a werewolf, for the help of a few bloodsuckers. Vampires are useless against dementors anyway since they used to be human."

            "Then what is Dumbledore doing?" asked Harry cautiously. Snape seemed to have forgotten who he was talking to and he wanted this impromptu truce to continue. "Maybe the letter is a fake?"

            "I verified it," said Snape in the same weary voice. Harry spoke quickly, afraid that Snape would stop him. He explained all about Hermione's book, leaving out the part about stealing it back and implying that he read it before it was taken. He would have told Snape about Trelawney's prophecy, but since Snape didn't like the Divination teacher, or him, Harry doubted he would care. Snape listened and made him repeat the part about Slytherin's diary entries.

            "Slytheirn left no writings, nor did Hufflepuff or Gryffindor," said Snape flatly. "And only one of Ravenclaw's diaries has ever been found." Harry shrugged.

            "They could have been fakes, but then why such an elaborate attempt to take them away?"

            "You said attempt," said Snape slowly. "That implies that you still have the book, or that you managed to get it back." Harry tried to remain calm. Snape couldn't prove anything, and it wasn't like he was going to go to Dumbledore.

            "And if I did have it?" he asked cautiously. "What would you do?" Snape's black eyes glittered strangely.

            "The book is no longer on the Forbidden list," he said. "Therefore your possession of it posses no problem." He appeared to come to a decision. "Fetch the book, Potter, and don't make me regret this."

*****

Next chapter: An interlude of this same scene from Snape's point of view, simply because I want to show you what's going on inside Snape's brain at this point.

I am back, as you've probably noticed and typing like mad to get all my new chapters up. For those of you reading my other stories, new chapters of Intersections, Uric and Blackadder/HPwill be up soon as will a short HP story, a Discworld/HP story and a random Doctor Who story.

Thanks to all my reviewers and readers: Wilde_roses, Indiana jones, Elven child, Cheshire, Zardiphilllian Beryllix, gjegje, Besnaped, Dusty, Ozma, Terra, Wink At J00, AJ, HiBob, Lady Lightning, Dynast's Girl, IncubusSuccubus, Indigo Ziona, Persephone Kore, and deSevera.

Wilde_roses: Technically, all the founders would have been speaking Middle English, or even the earlier English, which if you've tried to read Chaucer, or the original Beowulf is not really very comprehensible to modern readers, so I used modern English to write the diary entries instead. This makes it easier on everyone.

Besnaped: Sorry, didn't mean to misspell your name.

Terra: Thank you very much:) Time definitely has something to do with it, but not time turners;)

Wink At J00: Harry thinks he sees Dumbledore smile in triumph when Harry tells him about how Voldemort resurected himself using Harry's blood.

IncubusSuccubus: This is the longest chapter so far. Happy?

Indigo Ziona: Doctor Who! Hehe. Sorry. I haven't seen the movie, though I believe Baker does something similar in one of the episodes I watched recently…As I said before, evil is in the eye of the beholder:)

Persephone Kore: Thanks about Cedric:)

DeSevera: Thanks:) The dig was great. You should see my tan:) The butterflies as a plot idea were taken from me thinking about chaos (and reading Terry Pratchett if I remember correctly), but in the story they serve a different purpose.

Please review. Cheers:)


	11. Interlude 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Interlude 1

Interlude 1

Severus slammed the book shut, disgusted with what it told him. Dumbledore's letter weighed heavily on his mind and he had found nothing to explain the Headmaster's apparent mis-order. Since there was no one in the library to see him, he allowed himself a moment to massage his temples and rub the sleep out of his eyes.

The night before last he had been at a Death Eater meeting. When Voldemort finally let them go, his sleep had been plagued by dreams that had quickly progressed up to the level of nightmares. He would have gotten some sleep last night, but Dumbledore had gone and dropped that letter right under his nose, or at least it felt that way. In truth, he had been watching the Headmaster closely all year and he was unlikely to have missed something as obvious as a letter falling from his robes.

Dumbledore was acting strangely, but Severus was hard put to find any evidence of his suspicions until now. The Headmaster spoke differently. A word out of place here, a sarcastic comment when Dumbledore thought he was alone. Severus had really become suspicious when he watched Dumbledore toy efficiently with the emotions of Flitwick and Sinistra during a staff meeting early in October. Flitwick had wanted to use the Astronomy tower for a demonstration of Far-seeing Charms. Sinistra had refused since she had a class in the tower at the same time.

Sinistra didn't like Flitwick. She found him too cheerful, or at least that's what she had told Severus once. Dumbledore had let them argue it out, which wasn't an unusual occurrence, since then the Headmaster would step in with a gentle reprimand and the solution to the problem. Severus had had it done to himself often enough so he should know. But this time, Dumbledore had no gentle reprimand. His words were deliberately couched to get Sinistra angrier and had even driven Flitwick to say a few choice words. It was the manipulation of a master and the annoying thing was that no one else had noticed. Even Minerva, with her sharp watch on Dumbledore's decorum hadn't noticed anything different. _How could Dumbledore have caused their argument, Severus? Are you sure you're getting enough sleep? _Snape snorted at the memory. He had been getting sleep until the Headmaster did that.

Now he spent all his spare moments watching the Headmaster. Trailing him like he had last night when he found the letter, and Potter to his great dismay. The boy suspected something was wrong with Dumbledore, same as he did, though if it was obvious enough for Potter to figure it out, why didn't anyone else see something wrong?

Severus realized he had been sitting with his head in his hands for several minutes. He straightened up slowly, relieved there was no one around. It wouldn't do for anyone to think he was having a mental breakdown. He would have to make himself a restorative potion when he got back to his rooms.

That decided he re-shelved the book and headed out of the library. A casual check in his pocket for the letter made him stop short. It wasn't there. He walked quickly back to the library and looked around. Nothing. Quickly, he retraced his steps back to his office, his annoyance growing with each step. Who knew what someone would do if they found it?

He came down the familiar corridor outside his office, and saw a shape crouched in front of his door. His raged boiled up and he nearly took out his wand and cursed whoever it was out of existence. But Dumbledore would not accept him cursing students. Not after the last time.

A few steps closer and he could recognize his visitor. He nearly groaned. Potter. Never had he regretted giving a detention more. How could he have forgotten the brat's up coming punishment? Now he would have to spend time with Potter instead of brewing that restorative potion.

His groan turned to a snarl when he saw what was clutched in Potter's sweaty hands. The letter, and knowing Potter, he had already read it.

"Into my office, Potter. Now!" Snape undid the office wards, than redid them once the boy was inside. No one could listen in on them now, not even Dumbledore. At least he hoped Dumbledore couldn't listen in.

"Where did you get that letter?" he demanded.

"It was on the floor outside your office," the boy responded. And it was probably true, since he doubted Potter had the skills to break into his office. But it wouldn't do to let Potter think he believed him.

"So you just picked it up and read it," he sneered at the boy. Potter was more likely to let something slip if he was upset. The boy opened his mouth to respond, but then stopped. He visibly relaxed before responding.

"Maybe I didn't read it," he said. Snape was surprised. Potter seemed to have learnt some poise finally, rough though it was. Maybe that story about what he did to Draco was true. Now to see if he had learnt some cunning.

"That's funny, because the hands of anyone who reads that letter turn purple." The boy looked down at his hands. Stupid. "One of Dumbledore's little jokes I imagine." One of the things that had always annoyed Snape about Harry Potter was how stupid the boy acted around him. And when he wasn't acting stupid, the boy was acting exactly like James. How was Potter ever going to defeat a wizard like Voldemort if he let such a little trick get by him? Luck wouldn't serve the brat forever.

"Or yours," Potter said. At least he seemed to realize what he had done.

"Merely a test, but maybe you won't be caught by it next time," Severus said, surprising himself. He tested his Slytherins this way, well his first-year Slytherins, not a Gryffindor and certainly not Potter. He must really be tired. Suspecting Dumbledore was a lot harder than suspecting Quirell, though the lack of three-headed monstrosities trying to bite his leg off was welcome. "For your detention tonight, you'll be extracting the poison from the sulphur root. Wear dragon hide gloves and follow the instructions in this book. Maybe you'll even learn something." That should put Potter back in his place and out of his hair. Hopefully, the boy wouldn't remember to ask him about the letter.

Severus settled down behind his desk with a book on magical transference and pretended to read. He didn't dare take any books on vampires out of the library in case Dumbledore got suspicious, but he didn't really expect to find anything if he did go back to the library. No matter how he tried to explain it, Dumbledore was making a mistake.

He watched Potter carefully out of the corner of his eye. He had had to improvise the detention, which meant he had ended up assigning Potter a task that was far too advanced for him. He wouldn't have trusted one of his seventh-years to extract that poison. The mistake he was waiting for came.

"Get to work, Potter!" he commanded. The boy's mind certainly wasn't focused on the potion. Severus saw what Potter had in his hand and went to snatch it out of his hand before the brat blew them both up. "What are you doing? You only need half this much or else the mixture will over boil. You're supposed to read _all_ the instructions." The note at the bottom had actually been added by himself after doing exactly what Potter had almost done. He decided reluctantly that the boy would need a bit more help if he was going to extract the poison without killing them both. He went to point out another note in the margins, but discovered that the idiot was no longer listening.

"Potter! You had better pay attention, or else you'll be doing this again with me tomorrow," Severus said threateningly. He would have to give Filch the detention. He was not spending another night explaining things to the brat. Potter blithely ignored the threat.

"Do you know anything about vampires, Sir?" he asked. Severus stared at the boy. Potter hadn't forgotten the letter after all. His first instinct was to assign that detention he had threatened, but he quelled the urge. Much as he'd like to punish Potter, the boy obviously had some information he didn't. There was no reason for Potter to begin suspecting Dumbledore - that he knew of. If he let the boy talk and answered a few questions perhaps he would get his own answers as well. Not to mention he could always assign a detention later.

"I know enough."

"Can they drink from someone without killing them?" The brat sounded worried about his friends. Snape sneered at the idea of caring about a werewolf and an idiot like Black.

"Yes," he said. "But not without making the person they drink from their mental slave, or another vampire." Potter looked so disappointed. You'd think he would have learned that betrayal is a common place thing in this world. The thought made Severus feel tired.

"But Dumbledore can't do that!" protested Harry. "He would never sacrifice someone just to make a deal."

"How do you know he hasn't done it before?" Severus asked. He was curious where the boy had gotten such faith in the Headmaster. Potter didn't answer though, and Snape finally relented. "But much as it galls me, I agree with you. Dumbledore wouldn't sacrifice anyone, even a werewolf, for the help of a few bloodsuckers. Vampires are useless against dementors anyway since they used to be human." His research had shown that. Vampires were almost impossible to control as well. Wards and garlic kept them away, as did running water, which explained the island, but you just couldn't trust a vampire once freed of those constraints. They got distracted too easily, and then things started to get messy.

"Then what is Dumbledore doing? Maybe the letter is a fake?" Severus barely heard the question and it took him a moment to answer.

"I verified it," he responded. About twenty times. Potter seemed to take this as permission to talk. He started babbling about a book on the founders. Snape almost told him to shut up and get back to his dettention, but something Potter said intrigued him. Slytherin's diary entries? Severus was sure the old snake hadn't been stupid enough to let any survive even if he had a diary in the first place.

"Slytheirn left no writings, nor did Hufflepuff or Gryffindor," he explained. "And only one of Ravenclaw's diaries has ever been found." Two actually, but the second was in Voldemort's hands, and Snape doubted it would ever make its way into the public eye. Potter shrugged, unconcerned at this anomaly.

"They could have been fakes, but then why such an elaborate attempt to take them away?" the boy asked. Severus thought for a moment. There was something in what Potter had just said…

"You said attempt," he said slowly. "That implies that you still have the book, or that you managed to get it back." Potter's panic was obvious, but at least he tried to hide it.

"And if I did have it?" the boy asked cautiously. "What would you do?" Snape was impressed. This was the second time tonight the boy had shown some sense. He would have expected that answer of one of his Slytherins.

He stared at the boy. He was now faced with a choice. He could take some revenge, petty revenge he admitted to himself, on the boy by turning him and his friends in, or he could choose to believe Potter and ignore the transgression in favour of seeing the book. Had he been well rested and less on the edge, he might have chosen differently. But somehow, a decades old enmity didn't seem half as important as finding out what was really wrong with Dumbledore.

"The book is no longer on the Forbidden list," he said. "Therefore your possession of it posses no problem." If Potter was lying to him, the boy would never live to face Voldemort…"Fetch the book, Potter, and don't make me regret this."

*****

Believe it or not, this is my first time writing anything from Snape's pov, which might explain why it's so long…Then again maybe not. Hopefully it worked out and was in character.

Thanks to my reviewers: Persephone Kore, Ozma, IncubusSuccubus, Sabs, lady sakura, deSevera, bluebird161221, Dusty, Gwendolyn_flight, Indigo Ziona, Bubby, Zardiphillian Beryllix, Life, Besnaped, Pinkmoon and wilde_roses.

IncubusSuccubus: This is most definitely, the longest chapter of the story…and here I was trying to keep the interlude short…

Sabs: You're question will be answered in the next chapter:)

DeSevera: The answer to your question really depends on your definition of evil…evil grin

Gwendolyn_flight: Dumbledore the greatest psychic on Earth I can see. But bald? Never:)

Please review. How did I do with Snape's point of view?


	12. Sands of Time Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 9

Chapter 9

            Harry was glad that Hermione hadn't taken the book back yet. He told Ron that Snape wanted him to have his Potion's book and took that and the Founder's book back to the dungeon.

            Snape took the book from him and raised an eyebrow at the title, _Common Household Charms_. With an annoyed look at him, Snape taped his wand against the book and said, "_Finite incantum_". The real cover of the book shimmered to life. Instead of turning to chapter seven like Harry expected him to, Snape turned to the title page.

            "Grameyre Studion," said Snape thoughtfully.

            "Is something wrong with the name?" asked Harry. Snape gave him a patronizing look.

            "Other than it being an obvious pseudonym, no," he said. Harry read the author's name again. It sounded like any other wizarding name to him.

            "How do you know it's a pseudonym?" he asked. Snape looked annoyed, but explained anyway.

            "Studion's a name that an author who wishes to remain anonymous takes. It's a custom that died out a long time ago, but occasionally you get a book like this one, published under the name. If you interrupt me again, you will regret it. Get back to your detention!" Harry reluctantly went back to his task, doing his best to extract the poison while keeping a surreptitious eye on Professor Snape as he flipped haphazardly through the Founder's book. He had nearly finished (and without burning himself to his surprise) when Snape slammed the book shut in disgust, than opened it up again to a certain place. He read it again, than slammed it shut again.

            "I don't think Hermione's going to be happy if you destroy her book," said Harry. Snape shot him a look of pure loathing.

            "Did you read anything in this book besides your precious chapter seven?" sneered his professor. Harry shook his head. Snape pushed the book towards him, opening it to a certain place. "Here. Read and learn something."

            Harry approached the book curiously. What had Snape found? He looked at the page. Chapter Nine – Godric Gryffindor. He glanced up at Snape, who tapped an entry on the second page. "Read that one," he ordered.

            _February the twenty-third, 991_

_            There was a storm today. A storm of the likes I doubt anyone has ever seen. The entire world shook, but not with thunder or lightening, but with magic. Great balls of pure magic floated down the corridors. One of the students is in the hospital wing now being treated for a burning arm that was her punishment for attempting to magic one of the balls away. The younger students could be found crying in the corners, or staring about in shock, their awakening magical senses overwhelmed by the chaos. I was not above wishing that I could hide with them, but instead I had to stay and keep order. _

_            I told Rowena it was Salazar's fault, but she just said I always say it's his fault. I cannot help it if it always is. Salazar never showed his face the entire time. I even ran down to the dungeons and pounded on his door, begging him to answer for the sake of Hogwarts if nothing else. But his rooms were silent with the wards firmly in place. The storm died down after a few hours. Rowena said it lasted for exactly three, but I'm not sure why that makes a difference. _

_            It was Helga who went down and fetched Salazar for supper. She's been angry at him ever since but she won't tell me why. Slytherin is pretending that nothing ever happened. I'm going to corner him tomorrow and get some answers one way or another._

_            February the twenty-fourth, 991_

_            I had a dream this morning. Salazar was standing down in his dungeons, his arms raised, and around him flew thousands of silver and green winged butterflies. The-_

            Harry looked up from the book. There was that reference to butterflies again. He didn't understand, and Godric's dream of Salazar was disturbingly close to his own.

            "Salazar Slytherin did something on February twenty-third, nearly a thousand years ago," he said, speaking aloud to himself. "Something to do with butterflies and something that Helga would have approved of. Something that created a magical storm."

            "All life is a cycle," said Snape thoughtfully. Harry's heart started beating faster. He saw the Dumbledore in his dream, mouthing the words over and over. All life is a cycle. All life is a cycle.

            "Where did you hear that, Sir?" he asked as respectfully as possible. Snape reached down and tapped the book again, giving him a small sneer. Harry leant over and began reading where he had left off.

            _Then he turned into a giant butterfly and flew off into the sun. It must have been inspired by that cage of butterflies I saw in Salazar's lab last time I was there. _

_            I talked to Rowena first thing, asking for her theories about the magical storm. She had many, but few of them were plausible and none of them pointed towards Salazar. I had to teach in the morning, but then devoted myself to getting Salazar alone. Rowena and Helga would not appreciate me accusing him in front of them or the students. He came willingly to one of our disused meeting places, but once there, I barely got a word out of him. He denied everything of course, playing with my words like he always does, his eyes twinkling with some inner amusement. But near the end, I got him to tell me something. All life is a cycle. That was his hint for all the good it will do me. Helga seems to know something of what went on, but she refuses to tell me. Sometimes I wonder how we will all keep this school together if we persist in our secrets. I will ask Rowena again tomorrow, and maybe someday I will have some answers._

            Harry was confused and unsure what to do. Snape was sure to dismiss him if he told him about his dream, but he didn't know why Dumbledore would have been repeated Slytherin's thousand year-old hint. For that matter, what did any of this have to do with Dumbledore acting strangely? A thought occurred to him. What if Dumbledore had altered the book when he had Binns take it away? Maybe the book they stole from McGonnagal's office wasn't the same book. He shared his theory with Snape.

            "It's possible," said the older wizard reluctantly. "We'd have to ask Miss. Granger if she noticed any difference since she's the only one who read it before hand." His face was twisted into a grimace at the very idea of asking Hermione for help.

            "What do we do now?" asked Harry. Snape looked at him, distaste written all over his face.

            "You are finishing your detention while I read through the rest of the book. Then you will go back to Gryffindor and forget this ever happened. Let me deal with Dumbledore."

            "But-"

            "Are you protesting, Potter?" Snape's eyes glittered dangerously. "Dumbledore is the only one who has stopped me from making your life here miserable. But both you and I know that you won't go running to Dumbledore no matter what I do…" He trailed off, his point amply made. Harry clenched his fists, seething inside. He had been right about Snape listening to him, but he should have expected that Snape would want to deal with this on his own. He couldn't stand aside now though, even if Snape made his life miserable. It wasn't just his death that might happen. Remus and Sirius were in danger as well, and who knew who else had been sent conflicting orders that Snape _hadn't_ intercepted?

            He was in the process of angrily bottling the poison from the acid root, planning in his head what he was going to say to Snape when he was done when there was a tentative knock on the door. Snape looked up, than stared at the door for a long moment before undoing its ward.

            "Come in," he ordered. Harry gaped in shock. Draco stood in the doorway. He spared a glare for Harry before focusing on Professor Snape.

            "Sorry to bother you, Sir." Draco gave Snape an ingratiating smile that made Harry sick. "The Headmaster wants to see you in his office. He says to bring Potter with you." Snape looked as shocked as Harry felt, but recovered a lot quicker.

            "Thank you, Mr. Malfoy. Five points to Slytherin for your quick delivery." Draco made no move to leave. Harry guessed he was hoping to find out what this was all about. "That will be all." Draco reluctantly left, and Snape stood in the doorway for a moment before turning to him. "Come along, Potter," he said loudly, than leant in closer. "Keep your hand on your wand," he hissed, before straightening and striding off. Harry had to run to keep up.

*****

Next chapter: An audience with Dumbledore and some answers to all your questions:) I left a big hint in this chapter.

Thanks to all my reviewers: Myrana, aniwda, phoenix flight, indigo ziona, gjegje, Alchemine and npetrenko

Aniwda: Mmm, good point. Let's just say that he was saving berating himself for loosing the letter until after he had found the letter once more.

Phoenix flight: I think I read one once when I first came on (where Dumbledore was evil) but I didn't really like it. The inspiration for this story came from a very odd idea I had one day that just wouldn't go away.

Alchemine: I now have an image of Snape dressed up as Mad Eye Moody…Yes, thank you. I've been doing my level best to keep Snape as realistically in character as possible.

Please review. This is everyone's last chance to do a bit of guessing:)


	13. Sands of Time Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 10

Chapter 10

            Harry followed Snape into the Headmaster's office with a certain amount of trepidation. Did Dumbledore know what they had been discussing, or was he just calling them to talk about something more mundane, like the Death Eaters, or Voldemort? The office was cheery as usual. Fawkes sat in one corner, nibbling at a strangely shaped seed and a bright fire crackled in the fireplace. However, something about the office seemed wrong, though Harry couldn't think of what. 

Dumbledore didn't look up from his writing, leaving them both standing, and waiting for him to acknowledge their presence.

"Headmaster…Headmaster Dumbledore. Albus!" Dumbledore didn't look up. Snape's scowl grew larger and larger, then abruptly disappeared as he seemed to notice something. He strode over to one of the many portraits of former Headmasters that lined the wall. Snape stared at it for a moment, then moved on to the next one, and the one after that. He stared at them all in turn, while casting the occasional glance at the still writing Dumbledore. There was a strange expression on Snape's face that Harry couldn't place. The portraits had been there for years. Just what had Snape noticed?

Harry wandered over to look at the portrait nearest him. A glance at Dumbledore revealed he was still writing and humming some type of tune under his breath. He seemed determined to ignore them. Harry studied the portrait.

The plate underneath the painting said that this was Headmaster Charles Vertlang and that the date was 1599. The man himself had dark, curly hair that was streaked with grey, giving it a peppered look. The face was nothing special, though he would smile cheerfully and wink at Harry, almost making him laugh. Something about the eyes made him look again. They were brown, but that amused twinkle within them was very familiar. It couldn't be. He glanced at Dumbledore, then back at the portrait. Vertlang was gone.

"Severus. Harry. Why don't you take a seat?" asked Dumbledore genially. Professor Snape sent a warning glance Harry's way before sitting down. Harry glared back at him. Snape wasn't going to scare him into not talking. This was his problem too.

"Why do the portraits look like you, Sir?" he asked before Snape could speak.

"Have you ever noticed how owners begin to look like their dogs, Harry?" asked Dumbledore.

"That has nothing to do with it!" snapped Snape. "And you know it, Albus." His eyes narrowed. "If Albus is even your name." Dumbledore looked amused at the accusation.

"It's one of my names," he conceded, leaving Harry gaping. "As is Charles Vertlang, Orel Swartz, and countless others." Harry's mind was racing. Butterflies. Stones. Gryffindor's diary. _He denied everything of course, playing with my words like he always does, his eyes twinkling with some inner amusement._ That was it.

"And Salazar Slytherin," said Harry into the growing silence. Dumbledore actually winked at him.

"Ten points to Gryffindor, Harry. You really should have let the hat put you in Slytherin you know. You would have been a great asset to the house," he said. Harry stared at him. Why had Dumbledore brought that up? Snape snorted loudly in disbelief.

"This is ridiculous," he spat out, standing up angrily. "Good day to you, Albus. Let me know when you get your sanity back." He swept out of the room, nearly slamming the door on his cloak as it flared out behind him.

"Lemon sherbert?" Dumbledore held out the sweet. Harry declined. He didn't recognize the man sitting in front of him. What was that advice? Don't take sweets from strangers.

"Don't worry about Professor Snape," continued Dumbledore, though Harry hadn't been thinking about him at all, except to think that perhaps he should have followed him when he left. "He's just upset he didn't figure it out sooner, though I didn't give him half as many clues as I gave you."

"How?" asked Harry, even though he dreaded the answer.

"If you wouldn't mind fetching Professor Snape, Harry. There's no use in explaining this twice." Dumbledore smiled at him. Harry did mind. Snape was likely to hex him or worse if he approached him now. But he did want to get out of here. He was alone with one of the darkest wizards of all time, and the fact that he had been alone with the Headmaster plenty of times before was not comforting. "He'll be in his private quarters. Two doors down on the left from his office. The password is 'Voldemort'." Harry gave Dumbledore an odd look. That was a strange password for Professor Snape to have, even if he was a Death Eater. "Nobody ever says his name," explained Dumbledore. Harry nodded, and headed out the door. A tension he hadn't even felt disappeared as soon as he left the room.

It all seemed very unreal. Salazar Slytherin had lived almost a thousand years ago. He couldn't be alive today, and he couldn't be Dumbledore. Little things kept coming back to him though. How Dumbledore had set him up to face Quirrell in his first-year. The gleam of triumph in his eyes when Harry told him Voldemort was back using Harry's blood. Those were the obvious things.

But if he was Salazar Slytherin, he had to have known about the Chamber of Secrets. He could have stopped the basilisk at any time. Harry's felt a chill go through him at the thought. Just how many other things had Dumbledore known about, yet didn't stop? He had been the Transfiguration professor when Voldemort was at Hogwarts. He had to have known what was happening then as well, and that time someone had been killed.

Too soon, he found Professor Snape's quarters and said the password. The door swung open and Harry stepped in, looking around curiously. This was not a part of Hogwarts he had ever expected to see.

The room was small. Harry could see no bed, so he assumed this was some type of sitting room. A surprisingly comfortable looking leather chair sat close to a fireplace that wasn't lit. Shelves groaned under the weight of books and random potions ingredients. A threadbare carpet lined the floor, pitted in places, perhaps from potion's spills. Snape sat in the middle of the floor, parchments and books scattered about him. He had the Founder's book open and was using it to cross reference with the countless other manuscripts that were scattered about.

"Professor Snape," he said tentatively while closing the door. Snape glanced up at him, his dark-eyes inscrutable before returning to the books.

"He gave you the password," he said in the calmest tone Harry had ever heard out of Snape. It reminded him of being in the eye of a hurricane. Any moment the storm would start up again.

"Er, yes. He wants you to come back so he can explain." Snape didn't even look up this time.

"Sit down, Potter and make yourself useful." He gestured at the pile before him. Harry took a seat.

"But Dumbledore-" he tried again. Snape stared hard at him, making the words die in his throat.

"Did the hat really want to put you in Slytherin?" the older wizard asked reluctantly. It wasn't the question Harry had been expecting. He nodded cautiously. "Why?" Snape asked. Harry thought back to that day. He had almost forgotten the Sorting Hat's words in his panicked relief at not getting into Slytherin.

"It said I had a thirst to prove myself. Does it make a difference?" he asked. Snape grimaced.

"Not to you, but it would make a difference to me, which is probably why he mentioned it so blatantly. He's trying to make us get along," he said in a disgusted tone. Harry thought that this wouldn't be a good time to point out that Dumbledore's plan was working. Snape hadn't snarled at him once during this conversation, though he doubted that would last.

"Do you believe him?" Harry had to ask.

"No, that's why I stormed out in anger," said Snape sarcastically. It took Harry a moment to decipher the sarcasm.

"You do believe it's him!" he exclaimed. Snape rolled his eyes.

"If only the Sorting Hat looked for brains as well. Yes, Potter. He is Salazar Slytherin and he had us in the worst position possible, which is why I deemed a strategic withdrawal wise."

            "You ran away," said Harry.

            "One more Gryffindor comment like that and you can wait in the corridor," Snape snapped, though it didn't have as much force behind it as usual. He watched Snape look down at the book again, staring at the words blindly. It took him a moment to realize why Snape was acting so oddly. It wasn't that Harry had almost been sorted into Slytherin, though that was certainly part of it. Snape was in shock. He was as confused as Harry about Dumbledore's revelation. He knew Dumbledore had set them up.

            "You wanted time to think and plan. That's why you left," suggested Harry. Snape nodded. He almost looked pleased that Harry had figured it out.

            "He switched the portraits. Always the same ones for over a decade, and then he changes them today," said Snape. That explained why Harry had thought the office was different. He had seen those portraits as well, even if he hadn't consciously noticed they were changed.

"And calling us _together_ to his office?" Snape mused to himself. "Using Malfoy of all people. It pointed towards an ambush, but an ambush that required us both. Just think what he could have gotten us to agree to on shock value alone." Snape looked disgusted.

            "But what if this is what he wanted us to do?" Harry asked. Snape gave him a sharp look.

            "Then we've already lost. He's had a thousand years to plan this out. We've had ten minutes. Who do you think will win?" He was right, though Harry hated to admit it.

            "What do we do then?" he asked. Snape gave him a considering look, then grimaced at something.

            "We make him wait." He seemed to choke over the word 'we'. "And I form a plan." There was a very predatory look in his eyes. "Find something to read, Potter, and stay out of my way."

*****

Next chapter: The full explanation, and…well, let's just say that things get a bit more interesting…

Just so everyone knows, the vert in Vertlang means green while Orel is a name meaning golden, just as Albus means white. Every Headmaster who Salazar has 'been' has a colour in his name. It's probably never going to come up in the story, but it's another of Salazar's little jokes.

Thanks to my reviewers: IncubusSuccubus, Indigo Ziona, Strifestrike, Ozma, aniwda, Zardiphillian Beryllix, Hildr, Footmonster, Pinkmoon, Dini, Sailor Book/Water Mistress, thistlemeg, Terra, npetrenko, emma, Iapetus, wilde_roses, EmeraldPhoenix524, deSevera, and rider-chick.

Hildr: I think you've got it;) The eyes are the window to the soul after all…

Thistlemeg: Very close:) Two points to the house of your choosing.

Terra: I think I'm going to have to award you the full ten:) You picked up most of the clues.

Wilde_roses: Did it turn out as you expected?

Rider-chick: It depends on your definition of a dark power. He is Salazar Slytherin after all.

Tidmag: You were right:) Just thought you'd like to know…

Please review. Was it what you expected?


	14. Sands of Time Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 11      

Chapter 11      

_Dear Ron and Hermione,_

_            I can't tell you what is happening now, but I was right about Dumbledore. If I and Professor Snape are not here tomorrow, please tell McGonnagal and anyone else you think is safe about what has been happening. _

_Harry_

_Ps. Hermione - I have your book._

            Harry looked up from his note and frowned at Snape. "I don't see why I can't just tell them about Dumbledore." Snape looked up from where he was storing away a variety of potions in various places about his body. (Harry had to admit that the ankle potion holder was impressive, if rather paranoid.) Snape sighed in frustration before answering. The professor seemed to have decided that explaining everything to Harry was his best option, but it didn't stop him from nearly biting Harry's head off every time he asked a question.

            "Slytherin is good at hiding, but we can't be the first to have figured out his identity. He wanted us to know about him, but what do you think happened to anyone else who discovered his secret?" He paused a moment to let the idea sink in. "Not to mention I don't have time for the resulting idiocy, excuse me, heroics once your Gryffindor friends find out." Harry bristled at the mention of his friends, but clamped down on his annoyance. If Snape was half as nervous and frightened as Harry was about their upcoming meeting, than the insults were probably his way of settling his nerves. There was a flaw in his logic of course. Snape would have had to be pretty nervous for the past four years in order to insult Harry nearly every time he saw him. Harry reluctantly decided that maybe Snape just enjoyed insulting people, and he would have to put up with it for as long as they were working together.

            Snape finished with his preparations. Harry placed the letter in a box that Snape directed him to. The house elves would collect and send it later. "You understand the plan, Potter?" Professor Snape asked suddenly.

            "Yes. I understood it the first two times as well." Snape wasn't the only one in a bad mood. The professor smiled humourlessly.

            "Then you won't mind repeating it again," said Snape smoothly. Harry glared at him.

            "I hand Dumbledore the book when we go in, making sure he takes it, then I ask all the questions, including the ones you told me to." He had been surprised that Snape wanted him to lead the conversation, but after a moments reflection he had realized that it gave Snape the chance to observe Dumbledore without the trouble of contributing to the conversation, though there was no doubt that Snape wouldn't find the time for a few sarcastic remarks.

            "And if things go wrong?" asked Snape impatiently.

            "We run," said Harry quietly because he knew it wouldn't happen that way. It would be him running, if he chose to. But Snape would stay, maybe because he thought he owed Harry something, maybe because he thought he owed his house's founder something. There was a determined glint in Snape's eye, and Harry briefly thought that perhaps it was Salazar Slytherin who should be worried.

            Snape seemed satisfied. He shoved the book into Harry's hands and headed out the door. The castle was strangely deserted, but then Harry realized it was well past midnight. The gargoyle that led to Dumbledore's office rolled open at their approach.

            "Into the serpent's den," Snape muttered to himself. Harry looked at him in surprise, but Snape was already climbing the spiral steps. Harry took a deep breath. He could feel the fear building in the pit of his stomach, but he had to follow Snape and play his part. The griffin knocker on the door seemed strangely incongruous. Snape ignored it, pushing the door open and nearly letting it slam shut in Harry's face.

            Dumbledore was still behind his desk, humming softly as he read through an old book, but when he looked up it was like facing the eyes of a stranger. Every look Harry had ever seen in Dumbledore's eyes needed to be reinterpreted, and he was struck with the feeling that their time down in the dungeons hadn't been nearly enough. Especially in light of that amused twinkle that was again gracing those light blue-eyes. Harry nearly forgot what he was supposed to be doing, but then his thoughts kicked into motion once more.

            He walked as quickly as he dared across the office. Snape had already taken a seat and was taping his wand against his leg in impatience. Harry held the book out in front of him, thrusting it over the desk at Dumbledore. "Here, Sir. I believe you wanted this." Dumbledore made no move to take it, and instead glanced at Snape, as if he knew that this was all the Potion Master's idea. Harry went to his contingency plan, pleased that he had taken the time to think of one, though there had been little else to do while Snape planned. He took another step forward, turning his foot as it hit the carpet. Off balance, he let the book go flying towards the Headmaster and used his now free hands to stop himself against the desk. Dumbledore held up his hands to protect himself, and automatically caught the book.

            The book turned purple in his hands, and Harry was reminded of Snape's little joke earlier. Dumbledore stared at the book for a moment, than chuckled to himself. "Well played, Harry," he said. Harry coloured at the strange praise.

            "Sorry, Sir." Dumbledore waved the apology away and met Snape's eyes instead.

            "Touché, Severus," he said, and this time there was no humour in his tone. Snape inclined his head in acknowledgement. Harry wondered what spell Snape had put on the book. He hadn't understood any of the words Snape had used to bespell it. The tension in the room began to grow as Slytherin and Snape stared at each other. Harry belatedly remembered his role.

            "How?" he asked into the silence, repeating his earlier question. "How are you Salazar Slytherin?" Dumbledore broke off the staring contest and tapped gently on the Founder's book.

            "You read the book. You have all the clues." He smiled. "Even Godric left you a clue." Harry was confused. Did Dumbledore mean Godric's diary entries or something else?

            "What do you mean?" he asked. Dumbledore shook his head in a gently mocking way. He opened to the front of the Founder's book and gazed down at it for a moment, before flipping it around and pushing it across the desk for Harry and Snape to see. Taking up the two pages were the Slytherin and Gryffindor coat of arms in a detail Harry had never seen before, outside of the crests over the Common Room fireplaces. He wanted to study the Slytherin one in more detail since he had hardly seen it in second-year when he and Ron had snuck in, but remembering the reason he was looking, he turned his attention to the Gryffindor arms.

            A beautiful tawny coloured griffin reared in the centre of the arms. A smaller version of Hogwarts floated above the griffin's head and Harry could see a tiny badger, hawk, lion and snake surrounding the castle, surmounted by the blazing sun. There was a crossed wand and a sword below the griffin, and below that an old style banner bearing Gryffindor's motto.

            "_Omnis viva est seriem_," Harry read out loud, wondering why it sounded so familiar. Beside him, Snape snorted in disgust.

            "All life is a cycle. He certainly was determined for someone to solve his mystery," Snape said in a sour voice. Harry jumped as Dumbledore chuckled in delight.

            "And just think how dismayed he would be that it was solved by a Gryffindor and a Slytherin working together," Slytherin said, smiling at the idea. Harry glanced at Snape and saw that he was scowling furiously at the insinuation.

            "You did something with the butterflies," Harry said before Snape could express his 'opinion' about them working together. It had to be that. The butterflies were the only things that were mentioned in both Salazar's and Godric's diaries, not to mention there featuring in his own dream. Dumbledore nodded sagely.

            "Ah, yes, now that you mention it. They were such beautiful creatures. I was happy to devote some attention to them." Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see Snape rolling his eyes at the comment.

            "Can we just have the story without the manipulation?" Harry asked wearily Dumbledore smiled again. He nodded.

            "Of course. No manipulation," he said in an amused tone. He was making fun of Harry, but Harry didn't really care if it got him some answers. Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Our intentions when we created Hogwarts were both altruistic and selfish. None of us, for various reasons, were happy with the wizarding world. I believe it was Helga who suggested that if we wanted to change the world we should start with the children. And so Hogwarts was built. We were lauded as great innovators by parents as we used all our skills to mould their children into what we thought they should be." There was an ironic smile on Slytherin's lips. "But teaching is slow work, and the wizarding world changes slower than most. Godric was the first to despair about our work continuing. He spent over a decade creating the Sorting Hat, and I still don't think he realized what a masterpiece it truly is, not that I ever told him. Helga invested her powers in her tapestries. You have no idea how much of the power of this castle still lies in Hufflepuff hands."

            "What did Ravenclaw do?" Harry asked eagerly. He was enthralled by the story. Dumbledore gave him a self-depreciating smile.

            "Even after a thousand years, I still only have hints at her actions. She didn't make any arrangements until late in her life, and by then I was gone." Harry frowned.

            "You tried to survive as well, but not through objects like the other Founders did," he accused. Dumbledore gave him a nod of acknowledgement.

            "I suppose you could say that immortality has always fascinated the Slytherin line. I didn't think Hogwarts could survive without a guiding force, and I wanted that force to be me. The others would not have made the necessary decisions I have been faced with since then. Optimists." The sneer on Dumbledore's lips was startling, but it was gone as soon as it appeared. "Other than a certain affinity for snakes, Potions and Transfiguration were always my strong points. I started there, but soon my research branched into other disciplines. Arthimancy. Magical Creatures and especially Alchemy. I suppose I had some idea about creating the Philosopher's stone even then, but I left it until later years when I met a young man named Nicolas Flamel. But in 1090, my search went in other directions." Dumbledore began talking faster then, the ideas exciting some long buried passion.

            "Much like Einstein in this century, my thoughts turned towards the nature of matter and energy. A continuous cycle of energy being reborn as matter and vice versa. Energy itself was immortal! And we ourselves are made up of energy! The key to immortality was keeping one's energy coherent despite its form. I based my model on the butterflies, though later I refined it to include certain phoenix properties. I remodelled my workroom to include what I needed, than set everything into motion. That storm Godric complained about was the final moment. Others had attempted what I tried but they forgot certain intrinsic points. Where they failed, I succeeded!" There was an arrogance in Dumbledore's face that Harry had never seen before. He was inexplicably reminded of the mad scientists he could sometimes hear when Dudley had his TV turned too loud while watching horror movies. But he still didn't understand what Dumbledore had done. Slytherin smiled.

            "Surely you understood that," he said in a faintly mocking tone. Beside Harry, Snape bristled.

            "We understood it," he bit out. "Continue." Harry stared at Snape in dismay as Dumbledore continued. And Snape had been worried about _Harry_ being manipulated.

            "I do not always serve as Headmaster here, but I am always near to help the school," said Dumbledore, but Harry thought he was skipping over a lot of things.

            "But what about the Heir of Slytherin? What about the Chamber of Secrets? Do you hate muggleborns?" Harry asked. Those had been some of Snape's questions. Dumbledore shook his head.

            "I admit I did have a tendency to mock them in my younger years. I didn't choose them for my house because it took them longer to assimilate into Hogwarts than a pureblood wizard. It was just another way to give my house a slight advantage. But when I discovered my spell had worked. Well, it was necessary for me to distance myself from Hogwarts. The muggleborn cause was an easy topic to chose, especially when Godric's favourite niece married a muggle. And there were so few of them around back then…" He trailed off, and stared down at the desk. "I never intended for it to get out of hand."

            "Voldemort took you seriously!" Harry was practically yelling. How had a simple plan from over a thousand years ago caused so much trouble? That simple plan had killed his parents. Dumbledore shook his head sadly again.

            "Voldemort is my heir. He is mentioned in a prophecy given to me on my sixteenth birthday. Had I died back then, he would still be here, but I would not be here to protect against him." Harry noticed that Dumbledore did not say he was going to stop Voldemort. "As for the Chamber of Secrets, I knew who was opening it, and he knew that I knew. Nowhere did I leave instructions to use the basilisk for the purpose he put it to. I protected those I could, but that foolish girl…Myrtle evaded my web and met her doom."

            "And when it was opened again?" Snape asked. He appeared to have forgotten his own admonitions to Harry.

            "I knew who it was. You were there Harry when I told Minerva the same, but I did not see how it was possible until too late."

            "You could have just gone down into the Chamber and killed the basilisk at any time. Why was it still alive?" demanded Harry.

            "Ah, an old man's foolishness," said Dumbledore. He sounded very old. "The basilisk was my last friend from that time, and I promised to guard him as he guarded me." And yet he had let Harry kill the basilisk as well. That cold feeling of fear was again present in Harry's stomach. Snape opened his mouth to ask something, than clenched his teeth together. He looked like he was in pain, and his hand jerked towards his left arm before he forced it down again. Harry's eyes widened in horror. He looked towards Dumbledore, and saw him watching Snape with a calculating expression. Voldemort was summoning Professor Snape, and somehow Slytherin knew about it.

            "You need to go, Severus," said Dumbledore mildly. "You know the restrictions he has you under these days." Snape fixed Dumbledore with pain-filled glare.

            "You asked me to go back," he grated out.

            "Which is why you should go. No sense suffering pain on my account." Snape stared at the man, and it was obvious he was going through all his options. Finally, he stood.

            "Come on, Potter!" he commanded, heading for the door. Harry got up to follow.

            "I think not!" called out Dumbledore. Both Snape and Harry froze.

            "He is coming with me," growled Snape.

            "Honestly, Severus, Hogwarts is mine. Do you think that removing him from my office will protect him? Unless you are planning on taking him with you? Didn't you say they are recruiting this weekend?" Snape didn't bother hiding his frustrated growl. Harry watched with a sinking feeling. Slytherin had been ahead of them all along and all Snape's planning was coming to nothing. Harry found himself pinned by the fiercest stare from Snape he had ever received. He understood the message. _Run, but only when you can._ Without another word, Snape stalked out the door, leaving Harry standing alone in the middle of Dumbledore's office.

            "Sit down, Harry," said Dumbledore pleasantly. "Lemon drop?"

*****

Thanks so much to Spitgurl for the Latin translation:) Sorry to keep on switching between calling him Dumbledore and Slytherin, but Harry has a tendency to call him whichever name the man reminds him of depending on what Dumbledore/Slytherin is doing at the time.

Thanks to my reviewers: Persephone Kore, Alchemine, Nagini, Lizella, Vegata Jr, Snapesdate, Esperanza, Aniwda, Mage Legacy, Pinkmoon, Perry, Ozma, Tima, Zardiphillian Beryllix, Sarincé, Iapetus, deSevera, IncubusSuccubus, Sailor Book/Water Mistress, besnaped, Emerald Phoenix 524, npetrenko, Terra, Blade, magpie poet, wilde_roses, bluebird161221, and gjegje.

Iapetus: Slytherin deliberately avoiding explaining the details of his spell if you noticed, but it will all be explained eventually.

Sailor Book/Water Mistress: Why indeed? I will explain, honest…

Terra: I think you'll like what I'm going to do:)

Magpie poet: Hermione isn't that much of a model student, especially not in her fifth year. Not after everything they've gone through. And she enjoys the Founder's book so much that she doesn't think reading it in History of Magic (since it is technically a History of Magic book) will bother anyone.

Questions? Comments? Want to thank me for putting up my longest chapter of this story yet? Mad at me for putting up another cliffhanger? Review:)


	15. Sands of Time Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 12

Chapter 12

            "No, thank you, Sir," said Harry. He did not sit down. Dumbledore peered at him over his half-moon spectacles.

            "I'm afraid I must insist," said Dumbledore. Harry didn't know why Slytherin wanted him to take a lemon drop, but he resolved not to.

            "No." Dumbledore couldn't use imperius on him, so he had no way of forcing Harry to do what he wanted. The hint of a smile on Slytherin's face was worrying though.

            "It won't harm you, I assure you." Nothing Dumbledore was doing was assuring him. "Very well." Slytherin walked around the desk a lot faster than he had ever thought Dumbledore could manage. He approached Harry, and Harry backed away, fumbling in his pocket for his wand. He should have been following Snape's advice and kept his hand on his wand.

            "_Petrificus corpus_," said Dumbledore casually. Harry was frozen from the neck down. The Headmaster produced a small, corked bottle and in one swift, brutal movement, pinched Harry's nose and tilted his head back. Harry tried to hold his breath, but when he finally opened his mouth to breath, Slytherin poured the potion down, forcing Harry to swallow or choke. With a wave of his wand, Dumbledore unfroze Harry, then looked sadly at him. "I'm sorry I had to do that," he said. Harry stared at him.

            "What was that?" he demanded. His hand finally found his wand, but would sending one of the few duelling spells he knew at Dumbledore do any good? Dumbledore shook his head sadly, and returned to his desk.

            "A timed Forgetfulness Potion. You'll forget the last five minutes and the next hour, until a time of my own choosing. It should take effect any moment now…"

"Lemon drop?"

"No, thank you, Sir," said Harry. Dumbledore looked disappointed, but didn't press him. Fawkes let out a soothing note from his perch near the desk and Harry looked at the bird in surprise. Granted it was Fawkes burning time, but he had forgotten the bird was in the room before. "How long have you had Fawkes?" he asked. Snape's departure meant he was on his own, so he would have to choose his questions carefully. Dumbledore smiled kindly at him.

"Ah, Fawkes. He was the most thoughtful gift I've ever received. Helga sent him to me many years after I left Hogwarts. He has been a good friend since, and an inspiration for some of my experiments."

"So was the Basilisk," pointed out Harry. Dumbledore's eyes narrowed in anger for a moment.

"I'm afraid I was a bit hard on Severus," he said abruptly. Harry's eyes widened in surprise at the change of subject, though it was more at the topic Dumbledore had chosen to change to.

"Hard on him?"

"This must have been as much a shock to him as it was to you," said Dumbledore. Harry thought of Snape sitting in his room earlier, completely forgetting that he was talking to one of his most hated students, and nodded in agreement. "I don't blame him for trying to take control of the situation. It's what I always encouraged my Slytherins to do after all."

"You knew about the Death Eater's meeting tonight," accused Harry. Dumbledore nodded.

"Severus told me he might be summoned over the next few days. I had hoped it might be later, but had to let him go." It had looked more like Slytherin had forced him to go in Harry's opinion. Dumbledore seemed to read his mind. "Of course, he would not have agreed with what I am about to ask you, Harry. You need to follow him. It is crucial that you be with Professor Snape at this meeting."

"Just as it was crucial for me to face Voldemort by myself in my first-year? And the Basilisk in my second? For all I know you arranged my meeting with Voldemort last year," Harry nearly yelled that last sentence. He was shaking with anger. Dumbledore looked sadly at him.

"I am not omniscient, Harry. You went willingly into danger time and again, and sometimes all I could do was keep you from being seriously harmed. I am sorry to have failed you." He looked so old. Harry felt his anger drain out of him and wondered bitterly if that was the reaction Dumbledore had wanted.

"Why don't you go after him, Harry?" asked Dumbledore gently. Harry considered the question. He was being encouraged to follow his professor to a Death Eater meeting which would probably be attended by Voldemort. Was Dumbledore really trying to kill him? The Headmaster read his mind once again, and Harry could see the twinkle was back in his eye. It had never looked so mocking or sinister before. "I'm not trying to kill you, Harry. I influenced Trelawney into thinking she had made that prophecy. When she awoke to find that piece of parchment in her handwriting, she was forced to believe."

            "Was the letter fake as well?" Harry asked.

            "Yes. Of course it was. Do you really think I would tell Remus to do that?" he asked mildly. Harry wanted to shake his head no, but he couldn't. He had the strangest feeling that Slytherin would do exactly that if he thought it was for a good reason. Dumbledore sighed and took off his spectacles to rub at his eyes. He looked very tired.

            "I think it's important that you attend this meeting, Harry. It will be perfectly safe. Just fetch your invisibility cloak and take these two portkeys." He held out a small box with two carven figures nestled inside. "The black raven will take you to wherever Severus has apparated to. The white bumblebee will bring you back here, or rather back to the front of the castle, since the portkeys will not actually work, inside the castle's wards." He held out the box and still Harry hesitated. The Headmaster stared straight into his eyes.

            "You proved your trust for me in your second-year. Is it asking too much for a little more now that we are so close…" He trailed off and Harry was left wondering what he would have said. "No matter. You can go or stay, Harry. Professor Snape will need you, but here is the box. I wish you luck." He thrust the box into Harry's hands and swept out the door.

            Harry stared down at the box in his hands. He didn't have much choice, did he?

*****

            Harry went to fetch his invisibility cloak. He was sure Slytherin had made a mistake. In order for Harry to get his cloak, he would have to get to his trunk, which meant going to Gryffindor tower. It gave Harry the perfect opportunity to tell Ron, and maybe Hermione about what was happening, even if he would have to wake Ron up to do so. Dumbledore wouldn't be happy about having his secret told to anyone else and maybe his friends could help him. Hermione was certainly good at puzzles…unless Slytherin _wanted_ him to tell his friends. Harry considered the paranoia behind his latest thought and wondered if he'd be clomping about with one magic eye, yelling 'Constant vigilance!' at dustbins in the future. Of course, there was always the problem that Moody had been right to be paranoid…

            Lost in his thoughts, it took Harry a moment to notice the voices that were echoing down the corridor.

            "It won't do any good, Helga."

            "You're getting cynical in your old age, dear."

            "I'm a portrait. I don't age. I fade away."

            "Isn't that a comforting thought. Hush now." The voices faded as Harry walked slowly down the corridor, trying to keep his footsteps silent. One side of the corridor was draped in a huge, faded tapestry. Opposite it were two portraits, only one of which was occupied. The other contained two women, both in flowing white robes. Harry paused to study it. Had they been the ones talking, or had it been the occupants of the now, empty portrait? The witches were elegantly posing together, staring boldly out of the painting. The blonde-haired one had her hair up in a bun, while the darker-haired woman let hers hang lose, though both had more than enough grey gracing their heads. They both had very stern expressions frozen on their faces. Harry continued to stare at the painting and finally realized what was wrong with it. The women weren't moving.

            "Sorry to bother you, but are you the Founders?" he asked, feeling slightly silly for asking a portrait such an important question. There was no response, not even a blink from one of the women. He was about to give up when he noticed a movement. The hair of the dark-haired woman was swaying slightly in the breeze. "I saw your hair move, so I know you can respond." His statement had the desired effect. The blonde-haired woman's hand moved to check her bun, and was slapped down again by the other woman.

            "That dratted wind. Why ever did we allow Notker to paint us outside?" complained the darker-haired woman as she fixed her own hair.

            "I believe he complimented your complexion. Said he could show it off best outside and you practically flew down from the tower to pose," said the other, the amusement evident in her tone. "But we should perhaps address the young man who has so accurately guessed our identities." She turned her gaze on him. "I am Helga Hufflepuff and this is Rowena Ravenclaw. How can we help you?"

            "What were you talking about before I came up?"

            "An old debate," said Ravenclaw hastily. "Nothing you need to worry about."

            "Perhaps he does," said Hufflepuff, eyeing him speculatively. "I don't think we've ever had a Gryffindor talk to us before."

            "Did it have something to do with Slytherin?"

            "Perhaps," answered Hufflepuff. Harry got the impression they were waiting for something.

            "You must prove yourself worthy of our knowledge." Rowena's dark eyes were boring into his, and he cast about desperately for something to prove himself.

            "I know that you thought that Gryffindor and Slytherin were being childish with their bickering and pranks," he told Hufflepuff. "I know that Slytherin's adder was named Striker." His knowledge didn't seem to impress them. What could he mention to them? "The storm. There was a magical storm that might have been caused by Slytherin, and you told Godric that it lasted exactly three hours," he told Ravenclaw triumphantly. They seemed surprised by his knowledge. Helga looked questioningly at Rowena, and the dark-haired witch gave a reluctant nod.

            "Turn around, and look," ordered Ravenclaw. It was a strange thing to ask, but after an encouraging nod from Helga, Harry did as he was told. The tapestry covering the far wall shimmered. Threads now glowed with new life, reweaving themselves seamlessly to display a new picture.

            It was a garden. Row upon row of flowering herbs in neat sections. The threads rewove again, focusing in on two figures in the background. It was Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, sitting on a bench near one end of the garden. They looked old, the colour leeched from their hair and Rowena had one trembling hand on a walking stick. When their voices came, they were cracked and faded, like the sound on an old movie.

            "You helped him after we condemned him. After you condemned him." Rowena's voice sounded bitter.

            "It was only a phoenix, dear. Every man deserves a bit of comfort, and he never tried to harm us," Helga said. She was playing with a sprig of juniper.

            "What did he try to do then?"

            "I do not fully approve, or understand what he did, but I know the motivations behind it. He wants us to succeed. He wants Hogwarts to succeed," said Helga firmly. Rowena stared off into the distance.

            "Three hours," she said softly.

            "He set you a pretty puzzle didn't he?" Helga sounded amused. Rowena gave a snort of disgust.

            "And one for Godric as well. All life in a cycle…" She turned to face Helga. "What did you see? You went to his lab right after the storm." Helga waited a long time before speaking.

            "He was crumpled on the floor in the middle of his lab, and I thought he was dead. His hair colour shifted strangely between his usual dark red and a fine grey, but it settled once he opened his eyes. He refused my help to stand up, but I helped him anyway since he looked ready to collapse. It was only then that I noticed the floor around him was littered with dust and the tiny bodies of hundreds of dead butterflies. Green and silver wings that crunched under our feet. He didn't seem to see them. He was babbling about succeeding. Saying that he'd established the cycle and that the ancient wizards were fools. I asked him what he was talking about, and he caught my wrists, peering into my face as if he were searching for something only he could see. I…I don't think he found it because he released me and gave me some perfunctory thanks before shooing me out of his lab. You heard his excuse later on. He was working on some revolutionary potion, and was so engrossed that he never noticed the storm." Helga's displeasure at the lie was written across her face.

            "Why didn't you tell us? Or at least me?"

            "Does what I saw give you any more insight into what happened?" asked Helga.

            "Something with butterflies obviously and cycles. Merlin's beard, Helga! If you had told me this years ago I might have had the time to research, now…We don't have much time left."

            "Pessimism will get us nowhere!" snapped Helga. "I know he has Hogwarts best interests at heart. That is all I require. We did the same thing after all. My tapestries, your spells. We will live on in this place long after our bodies fail." She sounded sad.

            "Our journals and our memories. We must leave them behind or how else will our future understand us?" asked Rowena mournfully. They sat in silence for a moment before Helga shook herself.

            "Enough of this. Dinner will be served soon and we'll be missed in the Great Hall." She got up to leave and the threads of the tapestry grew dimmer, rearranging themselves into the faded pattern they had held before. Harry stood in a shock for a moment before turning to ask the Founder's portrait a question. The two witches were gone and all he could see in the painting was the faint grass in the background.

            Something touched Harry's leg and he jumped. He looked over, then down. Dobby was clutching his robes with one hand, while holding a large package to his chest.

            "Dobby is sorry to bother you, Harry Potter, sir."

            "What do you want, Dobby?" asked Harry wearily. Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw's conversation had just given him more questions. He didn't know what to think about Slytherin anymore. Dobby held out the package towards him.

            "Headmaster Dumbledore asked Dobby to give you this, sir" Harry took the package, and realized by the weight what it must be. His invisibility cloak. "He says you must hurry, sir. He says you don't have time to dawdle. Professor Snape is in danger, sir. I will help you, sir. Here." Harry opened his mouth to protest, and blinked in shock as he found himself standing outside the main entrance to the castle. It seems there hadn't been a flaw in Slytherin's plan after all.

            Harry looked longingly up towards where Gryffindor tower would be if it weren't so dark, then opened the box with the portkeys. Even if Slytherin was lying, he couldn't let Snape face this danger alone, though every part of him was trembling at the thought of facing Voldemort again. He un-wrapped the package and pulled his cloak on. With one finger, he touched the black raven carving. A hook tugged at his navel and Hogwarts disappeared into the night.

*****

Thanks to everyone for waiting for this chapter. Essays, the admins banning me from uploading, and a simple case of writer's block all hindered me in writing. But see, another long chapter was the result:)

Thank you to all my readers and reviewers: dkg, Shattered Destiny, Perry, Sky Chief, IncubusSuccubus, Zardiphillian Beryllix, Footmonster, Sarincé, Vegeta Jr., magpie poet, Terra, Pinkmoon, Indigo Ziona, Ozma, npetkenko, Tora Tigress, gjegje, me, Ara-chan, Calandra Facete, Tereth Dragonstar, Mage Legacy, A Tyre, and Mitchell de Quevedo.

Zardiphillian Beryllix: I like to write things that no one else has written yet. When the idea of Salazar!Dumbledore popped into my head I knew I had to write it, even if it took me ages to work out the logistics of it all.

Sarincé: Hopefully this chapter gave some insight into what Rowena and Helga knew and were doing, about Slytherin.

Magpie poet: Tom didn't actually know that Dumbledore was Slytherin. He just knew that Dumbledore knew about the Chamber and what lay within (at the time, he wondered why Dumbledore didn't outright stop him, but in later years he managed to convince himself that good ole Dumbledore couldn't have known as much as he thought since the do-gooder would obviously have stopped Tom if he could). Well, Slytherin would be the first to tell you he visited the Basilisk for a cup of tea sometimes, though whether or not you should believe him…Thank you about the art and magic comment, though it was definitely inspired by Ozma's wonderful squib stories. Hopefully this chapter gave an idea of what Helga and Rowena contributed.

Terra: I have mixed feelings about cliff-hangers. This story seems to lend itself naturally to them, though I very rarely end on a cliff-hanger intentionally. I just write until it seems the right place to stop.

Pinkmoon: To quote some of my reviewers, Dumbledore/Slytherin is complex;)

Ozma: Well, not a cocoon, but there is more that Harry and Snape need to figure out…Ah, yes the lemon drops. Makes you wonder if Salazar's always had a sweet tooth…

Ara-chan: The prologue states that his eyes are blue-grey. As this chapter shows, his hair is dark red. There is some significance to the fact that Albus is his first incarnation since his time as Salazar where he has maintained his normal hair and eye colour.

Calandra Facete: Thank you about Snape. Can you imagine how he's going to react to Harry coming after him?

Mage Legacy: Salazar's pleased that Harry was almost sorted into his house, though he's been pleased about that since Harry's second-year.

Please review:) I love knowing what everyone thinks.


	16. Sands of Time Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This last bit of intrigue galled him though. Dumbledore had been giving information away by the bucketful, but it was all useless without the proper insight. Doubtless, Potter was being given more information, but without being there to interpret it, Severus had little hope of gaining some understanding of Slytherin's plans.

Chapter 13  
To say he was displeased would have been an understatement. Severus was furious with Dumbledore, or Slytherin, or whatever he was supposed to call him. And more importantly he was furious with himself. Years of being manipulated. He had known to some extent – even when Dumbledore was kind, there was always something that was expected out of him – but he had convinced himself at some point that all those manipulations were for the best. That he didn't mind. Slytherins were more used to being manipulated than most. He could have been in Azkaban after all. It could have been him sitting in a cell next to a gibbering Sirius Black. It was hard to say if the prospect of the Dementors, or an eternity spent with Black scared him more.

This last bit of intrigue galled him though. Dumbledore had been giving information away by the bucketful, but it was all useless without the proper insight. Doubtless, Potter was being given more information, but without being there to interpret it, Severus had little hope of gaining some understanding of Slytherin's plans.

Which brought him to his second dilemma: being forced to leave the room like a child who had heard enough, leaving Potter all alone. He was worried about the brat, and angry at Dumbledore for making him worry. Just why had he wanted Potter alone? And why did Potter's safety always fall into his hands?

He allowed himself a growl of frustration as he walked through the woods to his ultimate destination, cursing Voldemort's timing. The ceremony could have happened at any time this weekend, but the Dark Lord had to choose tonight. And Dumbledore had known of the meeting, which meant there was at least one other informant for Dumbledore in the Death Eater ranks.

Yet another fact to add to the growing number of revelations that had been thrown at him today. He was sure that if given enough time to think on it, he could figure out what Slytherin was planning, but that time wasn't presenting itself. All he could do was Apparate to Voldemort and hope that idiot of a boy didn't get himself killed.

*****

It was cold where Harry appeared. Cold and damp. His feet sunk a few inches into the soft forest floor and he looked around in surprise. A forest of ancient trees spread off in every direction, their dark trunks blending together in the darkness. Moss and ferns grew on the forest floor, filling the air with a sweet smell that mingled with a more pervasive scent of rotting wood. After his experiences in fourth year, the wood wasn't the place he was expecting for a Death Eater meeting.

For that matter, where were the Death Eaters? He would rather not see them at all – the trembling in his hands betrayed that – but the Portkey should have brought him directly to Snape.

It was the laughter that led him to them. He followed the noise, climbing over a rotting log and hoping that his foot didn't slip. They were sitting in two rows forming a corridor to Voldemort. Each Death Eater was seated on an ornately carved seat, though Voldemort's chair was the most decorated of all of them. Strangely, each Death Eater had his wand out and pointing up, like soldiers at attention. It was impossible to tell which one was Snape.

A figure was kneeling in front of Voldemort, cradling its arm. He or she turned to face the assembled Death Eaters and cheers rang out. A mask was already on its face, but the hood of the person's robe wasn't up and Harry could see shaggy blond hair. Dumbledore hadn't been lying when he said they were recruiting.

He had to get closer. It was hard to remember that no one could see him, especially with Voldemort gazing about the clearing like a proud parent, but he approached the group boldly, following a well-treaded path that led straight to Voldemort. His scar throbbed duly at the back of his head, but he was able to ignore it like a bad headache. A faint noise would betray him, so he was careful, but since they were all sitting, there was little chance of them bumping into him. It provided him with the perfect view and he wondered why Snape didn't use an invisibility cloak instead of risking his life playing a double agent.

Voldemort finished his proud perusal of his servants, and Harry's heart jolted as he noticed the crouched Death Eater at Voldemort's side. Peter was wearing a mask, but the silver hand and the cringing posture were easily identifiable. Harry drew his wand, but he forced himself to keep it by his side and not curse the traitor out of existence. He was here to help Snape, though how he was going to do that was beyond him.

"Create a chair and join the ranks." The red in Voldemort's eyes flashed when he spoke.

The newest Death Eater pulled up their hood, then strode to the end of the line, quite close to Harry, though not enough to make him worry, and created an elegant ebony chair. Voldemort chuckled at seeing it, and Harry was sure he was amused by the choice of chair, though he couldn't see why. The Death Eater sat down, and a silence filled the clearing.

Less than a minute later, Harry was still debating what he should do. Perhaps he would be able to tell which Death Eater was Snape by the chair? The choice was taken from him when every Death Eater turned their pale, masked faces towards him. With their wands pointed upwards as death's guards, the scene was enough to send a shiver down his spine without the added fact that they were staring directly at him. His heart started pounding madly and he saw with growing fear that even Voldemort was staring straight at him, his eyes bright.

There was only one explanation. Somehow his invisibility cloak had failed, and he found himself uttering one of Ron's harsher curses in his head. Slytherin had to have done something to it.

But still, no one said anything. The Death Eaters were ghostly silent. There was a sense of anticipation in the air though, and then a voice spoke near his back, "I am here, my Lord Voldemort."

There was someone behind –

A knee hit the small of his back. The leg becoming tangled with his own. His arms flailed, searching for anything to hold on to, but they found only air. The man behind him must have been flailing as well. He winced in pain and fear as a hand closed over the top of his head, grasping both the cloak and the hair underneath.

– him.

They crashed in a pile onto the soft forest floor. Now he knew why Snape never used an invisibility cloak. He was acutely aware of a twig digging into his leg, the great weight that was sprawled on top of him, and the breeze that was ruffling his hair. A harsh silence filled the clearing.

Then Voldemort started laughing. Harry squirmed out from under the man and ran for a gap between two of the seated Death Eaters. It hadn't occurred to anyone to use their wands yet and he hoped that would continue, but even as he reached the edge, he heard a voice lazily call out.

"Laxus."

Though his mind was racing, Harry's body collapsed into a limp heap. He held onto his wand with only the greatest of efforts, but when he tried to move beyond that, his arm flapped uselessly, accompanied by the derisive laughter of Voldemort and his servants.

"Bring him."

He was roughly lifted up and dragged up the aisle. If his muscles hadn't been so relaxed he would have started in surprise at the soft voice that spoke in his ear.

"Ravenclaw's diary," Snape whispered, then jerked hard enough at his arm to make him gasp in pain. This amused the watching Death Eaters and Dark Lord even more. His captors forced him to kneel in front of Voldemort, before their lord could demand it. Pain was spiking through his scar, but it settled down after a few moments.

Harry opened his eyes and glared hard at Voldemort, hoping it would hide the fear within them.

"What an unexpected visit. Welcome to my family once again, Harry Potter. Did you miss us?" Voldemort smiled with his thin lips and the Death Eaters laughed.

"Before I kill you, I'm curious as to how you got here. I've yet to put out announcements of a meeting's timing or location to the world at large, though that will happen someday."

Harry decided to tell the truth, or as much of it as he could manage without betraying Snape. "Dumbledore sent me."

A look of disbelief crossed Voldemort's face. "Dumbledore? That bumbling idiot who can't even manage to convince the Ministry that I am a threat?"

"He's more competent than you think." Harry didn't know why he was defending Dumbledore, but if it kept Voldemort from coming to the obvious conclusion about spying…

"Very well, Harry. Let's say Dumbledore sent you here. What did he want, that he would send his favourite champion," Harry winced at the reference to the Triwizard tournament, "right into my hands?"

The obvious answer was that Dumbledore had wanted him to be captured, but no one would believe that of kind, old Dumbledore. Except, Slytherin had done this once before, hadn't he? Visions of his last meeting with Voldemort flashed through his mind, ending as always on the dull, staring eyes of a dead Cedric.

He had waited too long. With an elegant flick of his wand, Voldemort cast a spell.

"Evomomnis." A pressure built in his stomach as wave after wave of nausea crashed together within it. His guts were churning literally. He leant forward against the grip of his captors, taking deep gasping breaths in a futile effort not to be sick. The spell was too strong, however, and the remains of his last meal were deposited on the ground. Although Voldemort had removed the spell, Harry was sick again at the sight of the blossoming puddle of vomit.

"Ravenclaw's diary," he choked out around the sour bile taste in his mouth, hoping that Snape's words would actually save him.

"Ravenclaw's diary," Voldemort repeated and Harry's hopes soared. Voldemort knew what Harry was talking about. "And what did he want with it?"

"There's something important inside it," said Harry, trying desperately to keep the doubt out of his voice. "He didn't tell me what."

"No, he never tells you what he truly wants, does he?" mused Voldemort. He turned to the only Death Eater without a chair. "Wormtail, go fetch Ravenclaw's diary. Hurry."

Wormtail jumped, fled a few feet away, then disappeared.

"And while he's gone," Voldemort's eyes glowed as he pointed his wand at Harry, "Crucio."

The pain struck like a thousand needles on his skin. It moved deeper, until his whole body was vibrating with it. Only the hands of his captors kept him from falling forward…and somehow the pain got worse. He had just enough presence of mind to hope that Wormtail hurried back.

His mind had spiralled beyond pain to a soft place where the pain was only one voice amongst many when the spell was lifted. The fog in front of his eyes faded slowly to reveal Voldemort standing looking through the diary, ignoring his captive.

Voldemort flicked through the book quickly but efficiently. The studious look on his face seemed incongruous to Harry, especially since he was used to seeing that look on Hermione's face more than on the dark wizard's.

Voldemort's searching slowed as he reached the end of the book. He sunk into his throne-like chair, still reading. Emotions flickered across his face. Shock. Dismay. Anger. And Harry knew that Voldemort had guessed some, if not all, of who Dumbledore was. The Dark Lord gave no indication of it when he looked up from the book though.

"I think it's time I paid a visit to Hogwarts. That old fool will be sure to let me in with his prize student in my grips. He'll regret ever sending you out here. Come, my friends." At the command, all the Death Eaters rose.

Harry heard a crunch near his foot, and lifted it to see a smoking potion's bottle. He kicked the other Death Eater who was holding him in the shin, amazed by the large amount of smoke that was billowing from the bottle. Snape jerked him off into the forest, running, as the cloud of smoke obscured their movements. There were shouts and random spells, but how could you aim when you couldn't see? They made good their escape into the night.

A/N: Thanks to Claire S. for betaing. I made a slight continuity mistake last chapter when I said that Harry hadn't noticed Fawkes was in the office before *sighs* I've fixed it now. I've been quite busy recently, so chapters have been coming slowly. This is the second to last chapter, however, and I hope to finish the last one before June.

Thanks for reading everyone: Persephone Kore, Indigo Ziona, Tima, Zardiphillian Beryllix, Ozma, Calandra Facete, Me, Terra, Tereth Dragonstar, Alchemine, Perry, wilde_roses, Mariner, shadowycat, Magpie Poet, K.H.T, Footmonster, Sarincé, gjegje, npetrenko, Charma1219, Siri Kat, Ninnoc, Sidda, Azul – aka – wise one, Vermore, silverpen, Samson, and anonymous.

Me: Dumbledore wants him to go to the meeting and Harry isn't sure why either.  
Terra: Harry can't tell Snape about the Forgetfulness Potion because he doesn't remember it.

Tereth Dragonstar: Godric got to show up in person in the prologue, so that will probably be the last we see of him in person. The raven leads to Snape who reminds me personally of a raven, while the white bumblebee leads to Albus Dumbledore who's name means "white bumblebee".

(anonymous): The idea came from my wondering about how manipulative Dumbledore was and evolved from there.

Azul: Yes, the butterfly reference in the first chapter was an allusion to chaos theory.

Reviews appreciated:)


	17. Sands of Time Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>             Running through a forest was not the best way to spend the night. Running through the forest to escape angry Death Eaters was right up there as the worst way to spend a night ever. Harry didn't think things could get worse than the worst, so he was pretending that his most hated teacher wasn't running beside him most of the way. They had backtracked a few times, with Snape pausing to set strange magical traps in likely places as they went. Their only sign of pursuit was a ghastly skeletal bird that had followed them for hours until Snape had sent a patronus at it. Harry had yet to work up the courage to ask Snape why his patronus' form was a sea gull.

            Running through a forest was not the best way to spend the night. Running through the forest to escape angry Death Eaters was right up there as the worst way to spend a night ever. Harry didn't think things could get worse than the worst, so he was pretending that his most hated teacher wasn't running beside him most of the way. They had backtracked a few times, with Snape pausing to set strange magical traps in likely places as they went. Their only sign of pursuit was a ghastly skeletal bird that had followed them for hours until Snape had sent a patronus at it. Harry had yet to work up the courage to ask Snape why his patronus' form was a sea gull.

He still felt relatively fresh after a night of running and hiding, but Professor Snape had dark circles showing under his eyes and his steps were slowing. Casting all those spells must have been tiring.

Suddenly, Harry stopped. "The portkey!"

"What?" growled Snape, and Harry winced. Snape was going to kill him for forgetting.

"Dumbledore gave me two portkeys. One to take me to you, and one to take us to him. I still have it in my pocket," Harry said as meekly as possible.

            Snape was slowly clenching and unclenching his hands as his face turned even whiter than normal. "You… imbecile! And I thought Longbottom was the one who couldn't remember his own head! Do you really wonder why you fail to excel at Potions?"

            Talking back to Snape was not a good idea. Or so the little voice at the back of Harry's head kept saying, but Harry was beyond listening to it. "Perhaps I fail to excel because I find Potions boring and the teacher hostile. I still came to save you!"

            Snape sneered. "Because you wanted to, or because Dumbledore manipulated you into going? I was in no danger until you arrived."

            Harry blinked, his anger disappearing. "Both, I think," he said tiredly. "He wanted me to be there and for Voldemort to find out, but I'm not sure how he made it all happen. I was only revealed accidentally."

            "He has another spy who would have moved things along in the right direction if the plans had gone awry," said Snape. "No doubt he relied on your inhuman ability to find trouble to do the rest." The last was said with a certain amount of disgust, but Snape looked more thoughtful than angry now.

            "Voldemort said he was going to Hogwarts with the Death Eaters," said Harry.

Snape nodded. "He only left a few to track us, and not his best or else we would have been found out by now." He stared off into the woods, lost in thought. After a few moments, he shook his head violently. The expression on his face was sour. "Enough of this! The portkey, Potter!"

Harry searched quickly through his pockets for the box that contained the portkeys. The white bumblebee carving lay in the centre of the box, while the black raven lay discarded to one side. He held the box out towards Snape.

"At the same time, Potter."

As one, they brought their fingers to touch the small carving. There was a tug at his navel. Harry's eyes bulged. He stumbled and the box fell from his hands – onto the soft forest floor.

"What happened?" Harry asked, dazed.

            "The portkey isn't working." Snape was practically growling at him.

            "What does that mean?" Harry asked.

            "It means that our destination doesn't exist any more."

Harry's eyes widened in shock. "But it can't be. Dumbledore-" he protested.

            "Dumbledore is as human as the rest of us, despite his inhumanity." Snape must have been tired to make such a statement without his customary sneer. Harry watched as he took out his wand and placed the portkey on the ground before him. Waving the wand over the bumblebee carving in precise movements made strange runes and symbols appear and disappear at an astonishing rate. Snape was muttering to himself, but he didn't look too angry, so Harry decided to risk a question.

            "What are you doing?" he asked. Snape paused the symbols and looked over at him.

            "Changing the portkey's destination. It requires all my skill at arthimancy and ancient runes, so if you wouldn't mind being quiet?" he snarled.

Harry nodded, trying not to quaver under a stare that promised him a slow and painful death whenever its owner found the time. Snape went back to work and Harry wandered about the area aimlessly. A slow drizzle started, and he found himself shivering in his robes. Where was his cloak?

            His cloak. His invisibility cloak. It was somewhere back in that clearing, or even worse, in Voldemort's hands.

            Harry cursed. If Snape heard him, he didn't look up. A childish part of Harry wanted to insist they go back and reclaim the invisibility cloak, but that would be suicide and Snape would never agree to it in the first place. He really was paying the price for his stupidity today, wasn't he?

            "Potter!" called Snape. Harry walked back over to Snape.

            "Yes, Professor?" he said, using politeness to cover his anxiety.

Snape impatiently gestured to the portkey.

            "It's ready. Let's go." He reached down for the carving, but Harry held back.

            "Where are we going?" he asked.

            "The quidditch field if my calculations are correct. The ocean if they're not." Snape didn't seem to want any more questions and grabbed his sleeve before picking up the portkey. There was the familiar hook in his navel and Harry hardly had time to think that this was not his preferred way to travel, when they found themselves standing on the quidditch pitch, slightly off the centre.

            The wind was blowing the last of some stray rain clouds away. Sunlight shot down out of the clouds in brilliant rays to illuminate a scene of devastation. Hogwarts was a pile of smoking rubble. As they watched, a single tower swayed in the breeze then crashed to the ground, sending up a cloud of dust. Harry could see a red and gold Gryffindor banner waving haphazardly from where it had snagged on part of a staircase. He looked over at Snape. His face was unreadable.

            "What happened, Professor?" he asked. His voice was loud in the silence.

Snape sounded preoccupied when he answered.

            "The question is not what happened, but why did he let it happen?" Snape mused.

            "Okay. So-"

Snape cut him off, though he didn't seem to be explaining. It was more like he was thinking out loud. "He's been manipulating us from the start. Right down to revealing who he was and to making sure that you would end up at the meeting. It must have been part of his original plan. I refuse to believe that his thousand years of plotting just went horribly wrong."

Harry looked back at the ruin that had been his home for five years. Had Slytherin made a mistake?

            "Come on, Potter," Snape said. He strode off in the direction of the Forbidden Forest, the movement breaking Harry out of his shocked stare.

            "Where are we going?" he called, hurrying to catch up.

            "The gathering point. That's where everyone is supposed to be in such an eventuality."

            "Do you think they're still-"

            Snape cut him off. "If Slytherin had anything to say about it, they are." His face looked grim though and he quickened his steps.

            They reached the edge of the forest. Hagrid's Hut looked abandoned. The shutter on one of its windows was swaying in the breeze. Snape didn't pause, but entered the dark forest. Harry followed him silently, his mind filled with worry for his friends. Surely Dumbledore had gotten them out in time?

            Snape turned left randomly, and Harry wondered how he knew where they were. All parts of the forest looked depressingly similar to the forest they had spent the night in, and they weren't following any of the paths that Hagrid usually patrolled. They walked further before turning right. A few paces more, and Harry nearly stopped in surprise. A clearing materialized in front of them.

It was large, large enough to hold the entire school, which was what it was currently being used for. In a loose circle around the outside of the main group of students stood the professors and a few prefects. They looked tired, but their wands were held at ready.

Professor Sprout noticed them first, but she only saw Snape's black Death Eater robes and not the Professor himself. She and the Ravenclaw prefect near her started cursing.

"_Stupefy_!" called the prefect.

"_Premocorpus_!" said Sprout.

Harry was close enough behind Snape to hear him snarl under his breath. His wand was in his hand, and he brought it down in a precise slashing motion.

"_Agnos__ aegis_!" Snape called out, and a shimmering white wall sprang up between him and the curses. Harry recognized it as one of the more advanced shielding charms. It glowed red and yellow respectively when the two curses hit. Harry could see the blurred forms of the other professors and prefects moving in to fight.

"Professors! It's Harry Potter and Professor Snape!" Harry yelled as loud as he could. Snape was good, but he couldn't face down the entire school. Another curse came their way, splashing purple on the shield.

"Minerva!" Snape bellowed. "Call off the dogs, you ruddy bint!"

Harry had never heard anyone dare to insult Professor McGonagall like that, especially to her face.

"I called her that during a detention in sixth-year," muttered Snape through gritted teeth. He must have been insane back then. Sweat was rolling off Snape's face; the strain of holding the spell after a night of flight was beginning to show.

A second later, a stern "Stop!" echoed through the clearing. "Take down your spell and let us see your face," McGonagall ordered.

Harry thought he heard Snape sigh with relief as he ended the spell. McGonagall was standing a short distance away, as were half the professors. She was covered in dust, and – now that he looked – so was half the student body. The stern look on her face melted when she recognized the both of them.

"Harry!" came the chorus of cries, and Ron and Hermione were hurtling out the crowd towards him. He couldn't stop grinning as they each gave him a huge hug, and he had to tell them at least five times that he really was fine. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Professor McGonagall looking at their reunion with tears in her eyes, while Snape scowled at the entire scene, tapping his wand impatiently against his leg.

"Much as I'm enjoying this touching reunion, we have more pressing business," Snape said. Harry was secretly grateful since it had looked like Hermione was going to start on one of her lectures about his disappearance.

"Where is the Headmaster?" Snape asked carefully, and Harry was sure he had been about to say Slytherin instead of Headmaster. He looked around and realized there was no sign of the old wizard whose plans they had been playing out all night.

"Oh, Severus," said McGonagall, her eyes tearing up again. She seemed to have forgotten how Snape had insulted her a few moments before. "He stayed until the end so that we could escape."

"He's dead?" Harry stared at her. Slytherin couldn't die. He had been here forever and surely death wasn't in his plans? "What happened?" he demanded at the same time as Snape. Both of them pretended they hadn't noticed.

"You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters apparated to the front of the castle and called for Headmaster Dumbledore. They had some Muggles with them, in the grips of Imperius, and an invisibility cloak that You-Know-Who said was Mr. Potter's. He threatened to kill the Muggles, then Mr. Potter, if we didn't allow him entry. He asked specifically for a duel with Headmaster Dumbledore. When we could find neither of you, the Headmaster was forced to admit defeat. We evacuated, and he went to face Voldemort in the main hall. The last I saw, Albus had his back to me, facing Voldemort and an awful hissing was drowning out all other sound. I- I couldn't stay and we had our hands full facing the Death Eaters." There was a determined look on McGonagall's face. "They harmed none of us!"

Harry could see it in his mind's eye. Dumbledore and Voldemort facing each other across the hall, having a conversation in a language that only the two of them could understand. What had they discussed now that Voldemort knew the truth?

But why was Slytherin dead now? Why was Hogwarts destroyed? Surely, Slytherin, with his years of experience, could have defeated Voldemort.

If Snape was shaken by her words, he didn't show it. "And the Ministry?"

"They should know by now," said Professor McGonagall grimly. "When the letters arrived, we used the owls to inform them of where we were. I have Hagrid patrolling, looking for them should they get lost."

"The letters?" asked Harry.

"Letters to many of us from the Headmaster. He must have known that this would happen." The sad look was back in her eyes for a moment, but she shook her head and the grim look returned. "He asked me to inform you, Mr. Potter, that he has remanded you to Professor Snape's custody. He shall be your guardian from now on."

"What?!" They were all talking over each other. Ron's voice was the loudest, but Harry, Hermione and Snape were all commenting as well. Professor McGonagall let them speak over each other for a few moments, then gestured for silence. She looked directly at Snape. "He asks that you honour his final request and see that Mr. Potter is adequately prepared for the future. I'm to help you in any way."

"How nice," sneered Snape, his face turning pale with anger.

"I don't want to go with him!" protested Harry.

"Professor Snape will be able to protect you, Harry," said Hermione unexpectedly.

"Hermione!" Ron sounded scandalized. "Nothing could be worse than having to―" He broke off when he realized that Snape was standing only a few feet away, glaring at him. The professor looked like he wanted to kill something. He opened his mouth to speak, and no doubt rip Ron to verbal shreds, when Professor McGonagall intervened.

"Your letter, Severus." She thrust a thick envelope right under his nose.

Snape gave it a wary look, then opened it. There was a thick sheath of papers inside. Snape skimmed the top documents, the muscles in his jaw freezing up, fixed in a frown. He seemed to find the main letter of the bunch and settled down to read. Harry leant over, trying to see. "The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…" was as far as he got before Snape moved the paper out of sight and glared at him. Harry had the feeling that if Professor McGonagall hadn't been present, Snape would have hit him over the head with it.

Harry turned to his own letter, opening the single sheet of parchment that sat in the envelope addressed to him. There was nothing in it really. A simple apology in Dumbledore's handwriting ― that he now saw was ever so similar to Slytherin's old diary entry. A polite request that he didn't kill Professor Snape (Harry could only hope that Snape had gotten a similar note regarding Harry), and a blessing, wishing him good luck, good health and good friends. He turned the paper over to see that there was nothing on the other side. That was it? Where were their answers?

Ron had sidled up close to him and now whispered in his ear. "We got your note, mate. What did you mean, 'you were right'?"

"I-" Harry started to answer quietly, when something clicked inside his head. His eyes widened in horror and shock as images tumbled through his mind.

Dumbledore forcing him to swallow a lemon drop, his eyes sad. And then…

_"A timed Forgetfulness Potion._ _ You'll forget the last five minutes and the next hour, until a time of my own choosing. It should take effect any moment now..."_

_Harry stared at him. He felt… odd. Like there was a little tape recorder in his brain, spinning and recording, and once it reached the end of the tape he would forget it had ever existed. _

_"What now?" he asked. _

_"Now," said Dumbledore. "Now, I tell you the truth." _

_Harry snorted with anger. The truth? From Slytherin?_

_Slytherin gave him a cynical little smile. "Oh, I know you won't believe me, but it doesn't matter if you do. All you need do is listen."_

_"On that day, nearly one thousand years ago, I started a cycle. The magic is a bit too advanced for you at this point, Harry. Nor would I tell you all for fear of the knowledge becoming common place, but suffice it to say, I tied my life into the life of the castle."_

_"Hogwarts?"_ _ Harry asked, in spite of his resolve not to allow Slytherin to lead him on._

_The old wizard nodded. "Hogwarts was founded on the site of magical convergence. In addition, we imbued it with enough protective spells to make the land around here practically sing with magic. You have seen it in the _ _Forbidden_ _Forest_ _ and the lake."_

_"My initial idea came from the butterflies. So impermanent, yet their cycle never really ends. I trapped a few in an endless cycle of near death and rebirth and saw that the cycle could override death. It could allow me to protect Hogwarts and the future in ways my co-founders never dreamt of. Perfecting the timing, the spells and the potions took years. Until the day when I was ready… Poor Godric." Slytherin looked lost in thought for a moment._

_"I was sorry to deceive him. He deserved an explanation as a friend, but instead I decided to play my usual games with him. I didn't expect the storm. The magic of the castle was not… displeased exactly. Surprised, I expect. Such arrogance to tie my life to the very foundation of the castle, and yet, it worked. I would age, then cycle back to childhood, then age again. Forever, or so I thought."_

_"I couldn't stay and let them see. Not even Helga. And so, I set out on my long life of hiding. Of coming back time and again as a different person. A young student. The middle-aged bachelor. The old wizard on his last legs."_

_"Rowena realized what I had done right before the end, but her words are in a code only someone with the right facts will be able to decipher. It was her diary entry that was most important for you to read, and yet not even your friend, Hermione, found her entries that interesting."_

_Harry bristled at the insult to his friend, but was unable to deny the uneasy feeling that continued to grow in his stomach the longer Slytherin talked. _

_"I took what comforts life offered me, but otherwise, I devoted myself to my task. I must protect Hogwarts and guard against my own heir. His existence was set in prophecy and I must be there in the end to confront him."_

_"But," interrupted Harry, unable to stay silent any longer._ _ "Why tell us now? And why me and Professor Snape?"_

_Slytherin_ _ removed his half-moon spectacles and placed them carefully on his desk. Harry found himself on the receiving end of one of the most penetrating looks he had ever received._

            _"My cycle is ending, Harry. The magics I rely upon to sustain me will fail within the year. It was not unexpected, but I thought I had more time. I thought I might wait until your final year at least."_

_            "Professor Snape was told because he will use the information well, as any Slytherin should, and you were told for the same reason, only you have another role to play as well. I am leaving you with a great burden, but I'm confident you will prevail."_

_            "What burden?"_

_            "Ah, I have said too much. A failing of old age."_

_            Harry glared at him. "I thought you said you were telling the truth."_

_            "I am. It's just that not all truths are meant to be told. Our hour is nearly up, and so I would like to tell you some more truths. The truth is that I feel honoured to know a young man of your calibre. I am proud of you and know you will go far. I ask you to try a bit harder to understand Professor Snape in the future. And finally, please forgive me?" His blue eyes were sad, and for the first time since he was fed the lemon drop, Harry found himself referring to the older wizard as Dumbledore in his head. _

_He started to say yes, then stopped. He was being manipulated again, wasn't he? Forgiveness was not something that could be granted so easily, nor should it be._

_            "No."_

_            Dumbledore nodded, unsurprised, then gave him a small smile. "It was to be expected. Good luck, Harry Potter. Three, two, one…"_

            And the office disappeared. Harry had his eyes scrunched tightly up, and shifted irritably when he realized he was kneeling on a cold, stone floor. His eyes flew open. There was no stone in the forest that he knew of.

            Across the room, staring straight at him, was the evil grin of Slytherin's statue. He looked around to confirm what he already knew. He was in the Chamber of Secrets. There was a great crack running through the statue, and that wasn't the only damage the chamber had suffered. It was a wonder the roof was still being held up, the walls had so many cracks in them.

            How had he gotten here?

            "If there were still a Hogwarts, I'd have you expelled," said a familiar voice behind him. He turned.

            Snape was standing, having obviously clambered over a pile of rubble that partially blocked the main tunnel leading out. There was dust in his hair, though it didn't show on his black Death Eater cloak. The look of fury on his face was terrifying for its coldness. "Would you like to explain why you apparated from the clearing to down here, of all places?"

            "Apparated?" repeated Harry blankly. He had been prepared to defend himself, but the accusation had thrown him off. "I don't know how and Hermione says you can't on―"

            "Hogwarts is destroyed. You can apparate anywhere so long as you know where you're going. Care to explain?"

            Harry did. He repeated the conversation as verbatim as he could. Snape only interrupted a few times and appeared to fall more deep in thought the more he learned.

            "Is that all he said?" Snape asked when Harry was done. Harry nodded. "Very well. Some side effect of the potion must have drawn you here, though I doubt he expected you to apparate. Unless there is something you are supposed to do here in the chamber. Can you think of anything?"

            "No. Nothing. I haven't been back here since second year. I thought Dumbledore had sealed the entrance," said Harry.

            "Another mystery," muttered Snape as he paced around the room, peering into the darker corners. Harry watched him, feeling heavy as the lack of sleep from the night before caught up with him.

            "Is he really dead?" The words had slipped out before he could think.

            "He let Hogwarts fall," said Snape. It wasn't a true answer, but it was all Snape would say on the matter.

            "How did you find me?" asked Harry. With the castle destroyed, there should have been no obvious entrance to the chamber.

            Snape snorted. "I followed my tracking spell." He didn't elaborate further.

            Harry realized what he was talking about. "The purple one you put on the book in Dumbledore's office?" Snape gave a small nod, staring off at the cracked face of Slytherin on the other side of the chamber. "But why would it lead here? Wouldn't it lead to his," Harry swallowed, "body?"

            "The spell led here. To the centre of that statue that looks nothing like him." As they watched, the face crumbled into ruin so that nothing was recognizable. Snape's face was blank. He turned to the tunnel that led out. "Come on, Potter."

            Harry surveyed the chamber one more time. Remembering a basilisk, a young dark lord, blood on the ground, and a statue to a man who had cheated death. He followed Snape out.

              And deep below the ruins of Hogwarts, where not even the pipes descended, sat another chamber. Not one of secrets, but one of rest. On a comfortable bed within the chamber lay a young man with deep, red hair, his eyes closed in slumber and his chest rising and falling softly in tune. A tray of charmed food and water sat on the only table, and mounted on the walls were the bodies of hundreds of butterflies, their green and silver wings sparkling in the dim light.

The End

A/N: Thanks to Claire S. for betaing and thank you to everyone for reading. I hope you all enjoyed this story. THERE WILL BE NO SEQUEL, so please don't ask me for one.

Thanks to Charma1219, Indigo Ziona, Ozma, shadowycat, Pajaro Negro, two2blue, Calandra Facete, npetrenko, Alchemine, Magpie Poet, Blanca, gjegje, Futon, silverpen, Elven child, Lirael, Celtic Angel18 and Slrmn82.

Two2blue: Hopefully, most of your questions were answered in this chapter. Voldemort has written off Snape at this point. The chairs were a sort of test of personality on Voldemort's part. The type of chair someone creates would tell him something about the person creating it.

Alchemine: The new Death Eater was a bit of a throw away character on my part. Just another bit of information that was meant to add to the clues but not actually help in any way. A false lead in other words:) And I'm afraid I could only make Voldemort as bright as Rowling did (in fact, *looks at OotP* I suspect I gave him too much credit… oh dear).

Reviews welcomed:)


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